Receiver of Many
by Kata Chthonia
Summary: The story of Hades and Persephone... "Who are you?" "This is your dream, remember? Tell me who I am..." he said, absently coiling a tendril of her long hair around a finger. She narrowed her eyes at him. "If this is my dream, oneiroi, then answer my question. Who are you?" The voice of a natural ruler, he thought. He leaned down and whispered in her ear. "I am your lord husband."
1. Prologue

**Author's Note:** _This is my rendition of the story of Hades and Persephone, trying to stay as close to the Homeric Hymn to Demeter and the Hesiod's Theogony as I can (while still trying to tell you, the reader, a romantic story filled with adventure, fantasy and the supernatural)._

_Original Greek mythology is told with adult themes, strong sexual content, depictions of violence, and coarse language. This story will be no different. Later chapters may include content that some viewers may find objectionable._

**The following story is rated 'M' for a reason.**

**Written for mature audiences only. Reader discretion is strongly advised. You have been warned.**

_That said, please enjoy! I am in the process of publishing this story on other sites in addition to and am the sole owner of all original content excepting, of course, the names and tales told over the past 4,000 years about what is, in my opinion, the most enduring love story in all of Western civilization._

_Reads and reviews are both encouraged and appreciated. New chapters will be available weekly._

* * *

**Prologue**

She looked skyward and blinked back tears, determined not to have them fall on the infant's head. If Demeter shed tears, who knew what terrible consequences her sorrow would have on the newborn child?

The ten-year war was nearly over. Father Cronus was cast into Tartarus along with the other Titans, monsters and demons of the old order. Her child was safe, here at her temple in Eleusis. All the children of Olympus were safe.

Her heart was broken. She had been his first and his love, their child born to rule in peace or in war. But as her belly grew, Zeus Olympios turned his attentions elsewhere. Hera Akraia had not captured his heart; she'd captured his critical alliance with the priestesses of Samos and the Furies. She had convinced several of the Titans to join with the rebel god Zeus. Her actions had sealed their victory and earned her the position of Queen of Olympus.

And with that, Demeter was forgotten. She was left to tend the Earth while her brother gods divided the firmament, the waters and the other side. The infant was oblivious, happily gnashing at her breast. Demeter pulled her breast away and coaxed the infant to suck droplets of ambrosia from her finger. She smiled, enjoying the grip of her daughter's tiny hands and staring into her wide, pale eyes.

The soft voice of her servant Cyane interrupted her.

"My Lady," the nymph said, "Th-there is someone here to—"

"Hades Aidoneus," Demeter said to the looming figure behind her. Demeter hid her breast behind her red chiton, brushed back her long blonde hair, and brought the swaddled infant to her shoulder.

She looked up at him; his dark eyes peered at her through the slits in his golden helm. The black plumes of the crest were stiff and caked, the helm and plate armor stained with the blood of ancient gods and monsters. The edges of his charcoal and crimson tunic were frayed underneath, and his great black cloak was torn and flecked with blood. Cyane bowed and departed quickly.

"Deme," he said, removing his helm and roughly shaking out his hair, "We're on more familiar terms than that. I was— am— your ally. Please, I am Aidon to you."

"Not any longer. I will not have that familiarity with any of you. Keep your war and your scheming to yourselves. I'll have no part of it."

"But you did. Just as all of us did," Aidoneus said, standing over her. "Deme—"

"Address me by my proper name, my lord."

"Fine. Demeter Anesidora," he said, deliberately chewing on the words, "the war is over. I'm sorry everything did not turn out the way you hoped."

She looked away from him, her green eyes filling with tears again.

He continued, "This war didn't turn out as I had wanted either. When we cast lots to divide the cosmos, I received rulership of the Other Side. I, the eldest. Do you really think I fought for the privilege of having Cronus and his pantheon of monsters haunting my doorstep?"

She shouted at him, "Your pains are nothing! What I have lost—"

"Enough, Demeter. Do you really want to be with him? To marry him? In just the past year he has had more lovers than I have fingers. Leto... Themis..."

"Stop."

"Metis..."

"Stop!"

"Maia—"

"STOP IT!" She screamed, jerking away from Aidon's hardened eyes. "Stop it." The wind howled abruptly outside, and the baby squalled, balling her tiny fists. Demeter held her closer, gently cradling her head with her arm. "You scared her." She turned back to Aidon, glowering.

He waited silently for her to calm the child. As he listened to her cries, something heavy and unfamiliar settled in his chest. The baby was pale, her hair darker than her mother and father. Aidoneus shook his head then straightened, "About Persephone—"

"Kore."

"Excuse me?"

"Her name shall be Kore."

"Zeus decided to name her Persephone. And given her name, her future power, and the part she will play—"

Demeter looked away from him. "She is not to marry. And certainly not to someone as hard-hearted as you."

He recoiled, then drew himself up and narrowed his eyes at her. "When she comes of age—"

"She will remain with me," she said, but her voice wavered as she spoke. Demeter's eyes grew wide and pleading. "Aidon, please; she's all I have left." She looked down at her baby girl, who was now murmuring softly as she drifted to sleep.

"We had a bargain," he said, growing impatient. "I rallied the Netherworld against the Titans and their servants. The war would have been lost without me. She is part of the oath that both of you swore to me."

"There is no longer a 'both of us'," Demeter cried. "He has taken that... that... bloodless, brainless, conniving—"

"Careful…," he said quietly, his teeth on edge. Love and loss of love were not his province. He didn't understand matters of the heart any more than he could understand childbirth or the movements of the sea. "His choice of queen has nothing to do with our pact."

"Marriage is Hera's province, and I'll have no part of it. Not for me, and not for Kore! I swear on the Styx that no Olympian god shall have her. No one shall destroy her as he destroyed me!"

Now that the lots were drawn, Aidoneus was no longer an Olympian. Demeter in her grief and anger had forgotten that. He moved to correct her but decided against it, pursing his lips together. "For my part in the Titanomachy, when Persephone comes of age, she is to be my queen and consort and rule the underworld by my side. You cannot change that."

She glared up at him, tears staining her cheeks, saying nothing. Hades shook his head and turned his back to her, walking to the door. "Do not think to see me again until that time", he called out behind him. "None of you will see me. If you are going to swear off the Olympians for her sake, then so will I."


	2. Chapter 1

"Kore!" Demeter called again, "Kore?"

"Over here, Mother!" Kore stood up in the sheaves of barley to wave Demeter over, then crouched down and poked her finger into the soil. Dark green leaves shot out in every direction, and she circled her wrist upward, raising a stalk out of the earth. Drawing her fingers together, she stood slowly. The stalk crept toward her lifting hand. She splayed her fingertips wide and a purple blossom sprang from the thorny stalk.

"Oh, Kore, if you plant a thistle in the barley field, someone might accidentally prick their finger," she said, watching her daughter.

"Wait…" Kore said, smiling, "Just watch."

From the barley, a fiery copper butterfly flew to the plant. Its tiny legs clung to the blossom. Demeter smiled. The warm breeze shook the barley and thistle on the fields of Eleusis.

"You see? I saw her wandering lost in the barley and decided to make her a home. You don't mind, do you?"

"My clever, sweet girl, of course I don't." Demeter gave Kore a hug. The butterfly folded its wings, fed and content.

Kore clasped her hands behind her back. "So… the meeting of the Olympians is today…"

"Yes, it is. I planned on leaving shortly. Minthe will keep you company."

"I wasn't asking who could keep me company, Mother. I was wondering if I could go with you this time." Kore raised her eyebrows and grinned.

Demeter's face fell. "I cannot watch over you there. You've seen what a rage your father can get into, and some of your cousins are not to be trusted."

They watched the clouds gathering around Mount Olympus, Zeus's thunder cracking the northern sky to call the twelve Olympians to court.

"I'm the first born of the cousins and have only been to the Mount once, Mother," Kore pleaded. "And that was aeons ago; when I was too young to really remember it."

Demeter's lips thinned. "Sweet child, I promise you can come with me someday… But not today."

"But, Mother—"

"That is my final word," she said imperiously.

Kore folded her arms and turned away. "Fine. Someday."

Demeter squeezed her daughter's shoulders. "All right, Kore. Next time the gods assemble, I will take you with me."

Eyes lighting up again, she turned to her mother with a shocked smile.

"If," Demeter continued, "and only if you promise not to speak with Hermes or Apollo."

"Really?" she smiled, knowing that she could find a way around Demeter's restrictions.

"Yes, child." She turned to leave as another rumble of thunder rolled through the plain. "I must go. Minthe will keep you company by the river."

"I'll see you around sunset," Kore called out after her as Demeter disappeared into the sheaves of barley. She turned back to the thistle, watching the butterfly rest on the thorny stalk before it flew off toward the pasture. Kore danced after it down the pathway.

* * *

"I still don't understand why she doesn't join us," Hephaestus said, pouring another glass of ambrosia for Demeter. "She works far too hard."

Demeter smiled thinly at her nephew. "She's… shy. Kore prefers the fields and the flowers. She's remarkably talented. You should have seen what she created today."

Hephaestus went on, ignoring his aunt's nickname for his cousin. "I'm not arguing that her flowers aren't lovely. What I'm saying is that she is doing the job of a nymph, beautifully to be sure, but not what she was born to do. She might not be at ease in court, but I'm here, and… well, look at me!"

Demeter shared a strained laugh with the crippled Blacksmith. Twenty aeons had healed old wounds. She had watched Zeus fall for woman after woman, human and immortal alike, and seen Hera's face age with each passing dalliance. The Queen's obsession had become revenge and petty jealousy. That could have been her. As much as she had hated to admit it, Aidoneus had been right; at least about that part.

Demeter had worked all her life to keep Kore away from the advances of the other immortals. The sons of Zeus were no better than him, wantonly taking every nymph and mortal they came across. Kore would never have to suffer any heartache brought about by them.

Zeus was sprawled on the carved marble throne, leaning on his elbow toward Apollo. His laughing baritone carried over the chatter that filled the hall. "…as a bull, I tell you!" He grinned and gestured lewdly. Apollo threw his head back and guffawed.

In a blur of motion, the Messenger flew through the white portico columns that stretched across the hillside of Olympus. Hermes alighted and strode forward, gripping his caduceus with white knuckles. He leaned down and whispered in Zeus's ear.

"Impossible," the Ruler of the Sky's voice boomed across the room, "He's coming here?"

Demeter felt a vise grip her heart. It couldn't be. No one had seen him outside his realm since the end of the war…

The stark white chitons and himations of the golden-skinned Olympians fluttered against their bodies as a cold wind blew through the throne room. A river of black smoke flowed into the hall, startling all but one. Demeter stood her ground, fists balled in anger.

He walked out of the smoke clad in the dark grey robes of the Fields of Asphodel, his long, curling black hair pulled back with a simple golden band. Aidoneus surveyed the room. _This court is more revelry than rule_, he thought,_ a social club in the sky for the deathless ones._ His influence had been gone for too long— perhaps irretrievably. Hestia took a step back, her eyes wide as she drew her veil over her face. Artemis whispered in Athena's ear. Aphrodite sneered and took a step back toward Ares, who puffed up his chest. Apollo raised a golden eyebrow.

Demeter stood imperiously in the middle of the hall before bowing to the Lord of the Underworld with the others. Aidoneus could feel the hate rising off of her, and felt himself transported back to the last night any of the Olympians had seen him outside his realm.

He approached the throne and bent down on one knee. The room grew silent, every eye transfixed.

"Lord Zeus, Queen Hera, I have journeyed far from my realm to claim what was promised to me during the Titanomach—"

"NO!" Demeter cried out. The room collectively gasped, then filled with chatter. Aidoneus remained where he was, not even glancing back at her.

Hermes slammed the end of his caduceus three times on the stone floor as Zeus bellowed, "Silence!"

After the roll of thunder subsided, Demeter grew calm, well aware of whom she was speaking to. "Lord Hades, you cannot have her. She is sworn to no one but her worshippers, the fields, and me. Lord Zeus, how is your daughter supposed to tend the young shoots and flowers if you send her away with… him?"

"Demeter," Zeus sighed. He had loved her once; intended to make her queen until she proved her ineptitude in the Olympian's struggle to win the war. "Persephone was promised to Hades. She is a woman now and has been of age for centuries. It is long past time for her to leave you."

"I will not simply hand over my only daughter to the Lord of the Dead. I will turn the world upside down before I allow her to leave me." She bowed toward Zeus and raised her arm to her side. A field of barley rose around her and she disappeared into the thick of the blades. "I have spoken."

Aidoneus finally rose and looked around the room, insulted and embarrassed. He started to turn when a soft rumble emanated from the throne. "Aidon…"

He looked back up at Zeus and strode toward the dais. "You must make Demeter comply."

Zeus looked out at the gathering of gods. "Leave us, now. All of you!"

They watched until each of the ten remaining Olympians disappeared, returning to their provinces.

Aidoneus turned again to Zeus. "Persephone is due to me. You and Demeter swore her to me on the banks of the River Styx."

"Demeter will never agree; she's too stubborn."

Aidoneus clenched his teeth, "Well then, what do you suggest?"

"Take her."

"That's it?" he said, raising an eyebrow.

"My consent is all you need to marry her. You want her? Then it's done. She is yours. Find Persephone and take her."

"I can't just… have her. What do you expect me to do? Turn into a swan? Rain down around her in a shower of light?" he said mockingly. "Those are not my ways."

"Aidon, I know," Zeus said, shaking his head. "You are too reserved and somber for that. So much so that you make it impossible for yourself to seduce her outright."

"Well, that's very reassuring," he said, stung.

"I'm not giving you an impossible task, Aidon. Your kingdom commands more than just the dead; you can find ways to her that are closed even to me." Zeus shifted on the throne and rested his chin on his hand, knotting his brow. Then he smiled. "I may have something to help you along… Eros!"

Aidoneus looked up at the pillar behind the dais to see the winged youth take aim. He caught the golden arrow just in time and winced, his hand clamped around its head, inches from his heart. He opened his palm and saw the parallel wounds from the razor sharp edges close themselves. "Was that really necessary?!"

Zeus laughed, "We shall see."


	3. Chapter 2

The moist soil under her feet gave way to blades of grass and a host of flowers with each step. Kore moved her hand over the barren earth at the banks of a winding stream and watched as bright green shoots appeared in her wake. A twirl of her fingers grew the gentle buds upward as she raised the flowers from the ground.

The river naiad Minthe watched attentively. Her nymph attendants had been in awe of Kore's divine abilities since she began to show mastery of her arts around the time of her flowering.

"More larkspur, my lady?" said Minthe, "I doubt your mother would want even more in this field. Why not something else?"

"I'm feeling... uninspired right now," she said, annoyed by Minthe's constant attention and her high-pitched voice. She made a strand of larkspur and wove them about her wrist, then a strand around each of her ankles, contrasting the white blooms against her short sage green chiton. Kore looked down at her bare pale legs, the fabric ending at her knees. She wanted to wear the longer belted dresses of a woman, and to wear her russet brown hair braided up in a beautiful chignon.

Minthe saw Kore drop her gaze and sigh. "What's the matter?"

"Nothing…" she lied, looking to the storm raging around Olympus. While she had begged her mother to let her come today, she was now glad that Demeter refused. The dark clouds and lightning did not lie. There must have been a terrible disagreement today. She squinted to see what looked like a wisp of smoke trailing away from the mountain.

The sweet sound of pipes in the distance caught her ear, and she turned her head to the west. A plucked string from a lute answered the pipes and grew louder, closer. She heard laughter. Kore stood up and started walking toward the music.

"Lady Kore, we mustn't. It's the mortals. Your lady mother forbids us to go near them."

Kore giggled. "The way you talk, they sound like monsters! Honestly, Minthe, we have nothing to fear from them."

"I cannot stray from the river, my lady, please…" Minthe implored her. As a nymph, her immortal spirit was rooted to the riverside, vulnerable anywhere else but here.

"Then stay. I'm going to see what they are doing," she said quickening her pace.

"But your mother—"

"I won't tell her if you won't," Kore called out behind her. Minthe nervously wrung her hands before disappearing into the grasses in a flash of green.

Kore ran toward a grove of venerable oaks and peered around the thick trunk of a tree. The villagers from Eleusis were casting white flowers into the wind around a tent they had erected in the clearing. From under a white cloth emerged a man and woman smiling at each other, followed by one of her mother's white-cloaked priestesses. They paraded around the tent with other guests who circled them at a small table. She saw two small corn cakes alongside barley effigies of Kore and her mother that were draped with vibrant flowers.

She smiled in realization. It was a wedding party!

The woman wore a long vermillion dress and a crown of laurel and olive. The man, bare shouldered and tanned, fed a cake to the woman. The bride picked up her cake and gave him a bite. Kore watched them kiss as the crowd cheered again.

Kore clapped her hands together along with the host of friends and family. From her hidden vantage at the edge of the clearing, she felt a tinge of loneliness.

She watched as the couple entered the tent at the behest of the Eleusinian priestess, kissing each other, their friends cheering them on lasciviously. A short, red-cheeked man poured barley beer, and the guests passed ceramic cups to the renewed melodies of lute, pipes and tambourine. Kore focused her hearing on the hidden lovers in the tent and crept into the clearing to get closer to the wedding party, casting a glamour of invisibility over herself as she approached.

Through the swirling music and dance she heard a cry from the woman. Was she hurt? She found herself in the middle of the revelers as they danced about her and drank barley beer, close enough to see through the fabric of the woven tent. The man lay beside the woman on the cushions, his hand trailing down her neck to her breast. When his fingers reached its peak, he gave her nipple a little pinch. As she cried out once more, Kore looked at her face. She was smiling and curling her body against the man. He took the stiffening tip in his mouth and kissed her breast as he reached between her legs and gently moved his fingers through the thatch of hair between her thighs.

She watched the woman buck and gasp, her hands caressing the chest and shoulders of the man. Kore felt something deep within her flutter then start to tighten and coil, making her suddenly very aware of the place between her thighs. She watched as the woman turned and grasped at a part of the man, unseen to Kore, the woman's hands moving in long strokes. The man's face contorted in a strained sigh as he moved over the woman, kissing her on the lips and pushing her hand away from his groin.

Kore watched as the woman, legs parted, lifted her knees above the man's waist and stared up into his eyes. His hand moved between her thighs. Kore saw him push slowly forward. The woman's mouth opened wide and her eyes squeezed shut, her hands tightening into fists as she grasped the man's back. The man stopped and removed his hand from between their bodies to stroke her forehead.

He leaned down, kissed her, and pushed forward again. The look of agony on the woman's face intensified, then melted away as he brought his hips to rest inside hers. She watched the husband embrace his wife again, moving in a slow rhythm between her thighs, drawing her closer, kissing her and caressing her breasts. His wife raised her legs higher, slender calves alongside his back, her hands raking over his shoulders as she moaned her pleasure.

Kore watched as her knees lifted to his shoulders, her ankles crossed high behind his waist, and saw between their bodies as the man thrust rhythmically into the woman. Kore felt her insides coil tighter at the sight and her thighs squeeze together. The tips of her breasts hardened and chafed against her dress, even in the warm breeze.

The woman shifted her leg again, obscuring Kore's view of their most intimate parts. She cried out and moaned, arching toward her husband. Kore saw the man rise above his wife and watched his hips thrust faster through her. Kore's heart beat out of her chest, listening to the woman's beat in time with hers before she heard the man groan, his body collapsing onto his wife.

She watched them come down together, their breathing heavy, their skin glowing with a sheen of sweat. The man pulled out of the woman, took her in his arms and held her close, kissing her and whispering sweet praises into her ear, thanking the gods that he could have her as his.

_So this is what happens when these mortals worship each other_, she thought. The ache of loneliness grew stronger as she turned away from the tent.

The sky now golden before dusk, she left the wedding party and walked back toward the meadow. She felt an unexpected slickness between her legs and blanched for a moment. It wasn't her moon cycle; she had had finished that a week ago. She reached under the thin layer of her dress to check, and shivered when she touched her nether lips. Kore removed her fingers and looked at them.

She raised an eyebrow. This was new. A fluid that wasn't water or moon blood, but flowed like water between her fingers, slick and clear. Kore bent down and wiped her dripping fingers through the grass as she walked. A thick shrub that bore clumps of white, pungent flowers grew in a line from where her hand touched the ground.

Kore sighed and knew she would have to explain this new and fragrant hedge to her mother. She decided to make a crown of the pretty little flowers atop her head. It would be a decent excuse.

The sky lit up in bright reds and purples and Kore saw Demeter appear in a flowing gold himation in the barley fields beyond Eleusis. The wind came in from the sea and whipped her long robes about her. Persephone ran toward her. "Mother!"

"Kore!" she caught her daughter and held her close. "Where have you been?"

"There was a wedding near Eleusis. I went to watch."

Demeter frowned. "Where did you get those strange flowers in your hair? You didn't speak to anyone there, did you?"

"No, I didn't let anyone see me. And the flowers are new. My creation," she said, turning once on her toes before walking toward the sunset. "I think I'll call them lilacs."

Persephone raised her left hand over the fields and gently closed her fingers to her palm. All the flowers followed suit, resting for the night. "Mother?"

"Yes, dear one?"

"Will I ever get married?"

Demeter pursed her lips, struggling to hide her distress from Kore. The man who planned to steal her daughter was a monster; until his appearance today on Olympus, he hadn't ventured above ground for aeons. "Why do you ask?"

"Well, I…" she flushed and looked away from her mother. "The man and woman at the wedding looked so… so happy when they were alone together in their wedding tent. I just wonder if…"

Demeter watched her daughter twist, and forced a smile. "Darling, what you saw wasn't true love, it was just lust. They were pricked by Eros, and their love will die someday. The husband will try to take a new woman, and the wife will be sad and alone. It is the way of things."

"He told her how much he loved her, that he would never leave her, and that he was so very happy the gods had let him find her, mother. That didn't sound fleeting to me."

"Child, you are young in the ways of the world. The only lasting love is the love between a mother and her children. The love of men is temporary. I am sparing you the agony of a husband who lords himself over you, then breaks his oaths and your heart. It's what is best."

Kore wilted. Maybe she was right. After all, her father had left Demeter to marry another.

"And those poor mortals," Demeter went on. "Half the women won't even survive childbirth. Including the woman you saw today."

Kore looked up at her mother in horror. "That can't be true!"

"You know as well as I do that Eleusis calls me to bear witness to their marriages. I can foresee their fates and cannot stop her from passing to the Other Side."

"Mother, no! Surely there is something you can do?"

"It is not my province. And it is the natural order. All men and women must die, or mankind would overrun the earth."

"But can't you at least save just this one woman, mother?"

"No, child. Those decisions are for the realm of the dead." Demeter saw the look on her daughter's face, and wished she hadn't let her current worries cloud her words. Her little flower didn't need to trouble herself with these things. "But these people are alive right now, and your gift teaches them to enjoy the fleeting days they do have."

Kore turned her mouth up in a half smile. "Are you going to Olympus again tomorrow?"

"No, dear. Today was... tumultuous. I won't be going to Olympus for a long time, I expect."

They arrived at Kore's shrine, spread out under a wide oak tree.

"So I will see you tomorrow morning for the harvest?"

"Of course." She kissed Kore on the cheek before vanishing with a rustle of barley. "Sleep well, darling. You're safe here."


	4. Chapter 3

The Eleusinian people had built shrines of wood and barley to Kore and to her mother long ago. Kore's shrine lay in a clearing among the rushes at the base of an oak tree. Clusters of white larkspur grew up the perfect circle of green tree shoots that served as her walls. Her ceiling was the vaulted branches of the central oak tree and the stars wheeling above.

As Kore lay there, she spoke a prayer in her own shrine, pleading to Eileithyia, the Eleusinians' goddess of childbirth, to watch over the newly married woman and deliver her from pain and death. She also remembered that her mother was not omniscient, nor was she a Fate. This woman could live and thrive with her husband and child, and make many new children.

Her body grew hot as she imagined making a child, the act of love. She quaked as those images swirled through her head, casting her into a fitful sleep as her hands came up around her shoulders, her arms pressing against her breasts under the thin chiton. She dreamed that she was the married woman with her husband's hands moving over her, except she was still her maiden self lying in the grove and he was—

He was holding her. Warm, strong hands moved across her body. Kore felt heat behind her and saw that the hands were no longer hers. The realization startled her.

"Shhhh…Persephone," a voice whispered in her ear. The hands continued to move lightly across her waist and shoulders, soothing her, "You are dreaming; there's no need to be frightened…"

Persephone; the name her father had given her. Only when his fingers traced their way up her body did she realize that her chiton was gone; she was naked. Kore's hands flew across her body to guard herself, but he gently pulled them away, and she offered little resistance. This was only a dream.

She relaxed, knowing that he spoke the truth. If this were indeed a dream, then surely she was safe. Wasn't she? The warm masculine voice rose slightly above the level of a whisper. "Let me look at you."

Kore felt the gentle stranger turn her to him, her eyes shut and her face turned away as he ran his hands down her outstretched arms. She felt the same coil form low in her belly, stronger than this afternoon.

"Open your eyes," she heard him whisper. Without recognizing that she was doing so, Kore obeyed, first seeing pale fingers brushing over her shoulder with short, smooth nails.

The moonlight danced along the shadows and the hard contours of very male hands holding and caressing her. Kore's skin thrilled, feeling the strain in his arms as he fought to keep those hands away from her small breasts, fought to ensure that he didn't stray too far into intimacy. She saw the luminescence under his skin, the tell tale sign that this was not a mortal man.

Kore turned slowly toward him, taking in first the smooth defined muscles of his arms and wide shoulders, then the slope of his body pressed to the side of hers. His face loomed into view, a thin smile deepening as he examined her.

She stared up at him with pale blue eyes, her lips parted in curiosity. The eyes that met hers were almond-shaped, wide and deep brown, almost black in the soft light and framed with black brows. Long black curly hair framed his moonlit face, falling away down his back. A narrow, trimmed black beard sat below wide soft lips and an aquiline nose.

He eclipsed her view, drawing closer as Kore felt his hand gently frame her face. His lips brushed once over hers before capturing her lower lip between his, pulling her into a kiss. She felt the coil unwind into a flutter and gasped slightly, returning his kiss as her lips sought his. His tongue darted across her teeth before she pulled back to see him.

"I never dreamed you would be this beautiful," he said quietly, his baritone voice resonating low and intimate as he scanned the length of her body.

"What do you m-m…" she began, her voice swallowed by another kiss. This kiss was more insistent, and she felt her skin jump and her hips arch. It was only once she moved that she felt something hard and hot pressed against her hip, eliciting a soft groan into her mouth. She moaned a wordless question, wanting to ask who he was. His only response was to skim his tongue across her teeth until she opened them, letting him taste her.

Kore heard him sigh as his hand traced up her ribs and settled firmly on her breast. Her nipple tightened under his palm and she cried out at the pleasure of it. With a gasp she broke off the kiss to look up at him again, her face and neck flushed, her lips tingling. She felt the cool night air moving over her hot skin.

He smiled down at her again. "And you taste exquisite."

"Who are you?" she said, barely able to hear her own words as her heartbeat thrummed in her ears.

"This is your dream, remember? Tell me who I am," he said smiling, absently coiling a tendril of her long brown hair around a finger.

She narrowed her eyes at him. "If this is my dream, _oneiroi_, then answer my question. Who are you?"

He was hearing her true voice: that of a natural ruler. She watched him smile at her fearlessness, even though he was twice her size and loomed over her. He leaned down and whispered in her ear, "I am your lord husband."

Her eyes grew wide as he lifted her at the small of her back to sit up with him. He grasped her leg with one hand, opening her thighs to his body. She was sitting in his lap with her legs splayed around his hips, the length of that masculine heat hidden and resting below her. His ardent need drove the pulse of her own hot flesh back into her, radiating up her spine. Instinctively, her feet locked around his lower back as his arms supported her upright frame, bringing her inches from his face. His eyes darkened with intensity and heat and Kore suddenly felt very small again. "M-my husband?"

"Yes," he said, feeling her arms rest on either side of his chest as her hands gripped his shoulders. "And you will be my queen, Persephone."

He whispered her name to her and kissed her again, letting her hands move up to his neck and move through the curls of his hair. She grew curious and snaked her tongue into his mouth. Kore felt him surge against her, his control starting to come undone. She felt his supporting arms move down her back and firmly cup his hands around her bottom as he lifted her up. Still holding her, he rose up on his knees and laid her back down, fitting his body over hers.

Kore felt the world tilt back and squeezed her legs tighter around him, pushing that hardness closer to her lower abdomen. He rose above her once she was settled in the grass, her lilac-strewn hair fanning out behind her. Long black curls fell from his head and down his back and around her, forming a curtain around them. The oak tree was blotted out. The stars were gone. There was only him, their tongues mating together in a kiss, the heat of him pressed against her.

In a bid to salvage his control, he broke away from their kiss and pressed his lips against her neck, returning his hand to her and supporting his weight over her with the other. He crouched down, drawing that heat away from her center, and planted light kisses across her collarbone, molding her breasts in his hand.

Kore's body was on fire. She didn't want him to stop. She needed him to stop. She needed to know who he was. She didn't care who he was as long as he didn't stop. Her frustrations became a deep moan when his tongue wrapped around a taut nipple, arching her body toward him. Kore's mind snapped into focus as his hand came between them and landed with a massaging squeeze on the nest of curls covering her mound.

"Wait…" she whispered.

He pulled back for a moment, his breath shallow. He smiled at her before inhaling and letting out a long cool sigh. "You're right."

She felt relief tinged with longing, her body cursing her for stopping him. He pulled his body away from her as Kore felt the sudden cool rush of air over her as he settled at her side once more. He tilted her chin toward him.

"You're right, Persephone. When we have each other, it should be in the proper place— in my own bed, after I've claimed you."

Kore felt herself blush from the bottom of her feet to where he pecked a light kiss on the tip of her nose. She resisted tilting upward to kiss him again, to draw his body back down to hers. She licked her lips and stared up at him, "I need to find you. Tell me your name."

He smiled at her, a soft sadness in his eyes, and bent down to kiss her in the middle of her forehead.

She jolted awake, alone, the grove empty and cold, but her body hot and her inner thighs slick with wetness. Gasping for air, she looked around for the powerful lover who had been holding her seconds ago, and then up into the oak tree.

A thin pale figure wrapped in a cloak turned to meet her gaze before vanishing into mist. She barely had time to register if the figure was real or imagined before she heard a sparrow chirp and saw the first flicker of dawn lick the eastern sky. The light grew stronger, revealing that the white larkspur had turned dark crimson overnight. A new and beautiful white-gray flower covered the ground, surrounding her.

Asphodel.

* * *

**Author's Notes: **

_Oneiroi: (Greek: Ὄνειροι) the personifications of dreams, the beings of the dream world._

_Happy New Year, everyone! I must say, I am delighted at all the positive and inquiring responses and reviews. Thank you all very much! I plan to update and post a new chapter every week on Wednesdays evenings (US Pacific Time), barring when this site lets the chapters go live. My writing soundtrack of late has been Anastasis, the new Dead Can Dance album, which I would recommend highly. In any event, I hope you had a safe and sane holiday, and please stay tuned for more chapters of Receiver of__ Many_.


	5. Chapter 4

Kore touched the gentle flowers growing around her and shifted the coloring of her dress to a soft white, mimicking the color of the blossoms. Asphodel… she tried to remember where she had heard the name.

She had only ever seen asphodel growing as a gnarled black weed. It was one of the few plants her mother would rip out of the fields wherever she had seen it. Kore had always done the same. She had never seen it bud and blossom. The white blossoms were veined with crimson, six petals with bright filaments bursting from the center and ending in deep red anthers. They were beautiful and foreign.

The man in her dream returned to her thoughts. She shivered at the idea of kissing him again, of tangling her fingers in the jet black curls of his hair. She picked one of the small flowers from its dark stalk and wove its stem around a lock of hair, her russet waves matching the red veins of the flower. She smiled and walked from plant to plant, picking one from each, and expertly wove them into a crown, placing it atop her head.

_And you will be my queen, Persephone._

She wanted to change her gown to something more womanly: lengthen it, cover her knees and legs in sumptuous wool, and drape a soft mantle over her shoulders, but resisted the temptation. Her mother did not approve, and would insist that Kore keep her youthful short chiton.

She wondered what he would like to see her wearing. Kore pictured him kissing her neck as she wore a beautiful burgundy chiton, but her imagination quickly turned to him untying her cincher with a flick of his wrist and pushing the gown off her shoulders to hold her against his body, as he had in the dream. Kore blushed, fairly certain that if she asked him what he wanted to see her in, his answer would be 'nothing at all'. She leaned onto the bark of the great oak tree, remembering his hands stroking her body, both of them naked under its sprawling branches.

"Persephone," she said quietly, remembering him whispering her true name, his lips grazing her neck.

She felt the same coil tighten in her belly she had felt with him last night, the same sensation she felt at the Eleusinian wedding. Kore crossed her arms over her breasts and closed her eyes, wanting him to appear to her again.

_I am sparing you the agony of a husband who lords himself over you, then breaks his oaths and your heart. _

Her mother had said she wasn't to marry. She was just Kore, the Maiden of the Flowers, not a queen, not his queen. These thoughts were dangerous. She felt ice wash over her. Demeter! Her mother would arrive any minute; they were to spend the morning together preparing the fields of Eleusis for reaping. She heard the familiar rush of barley, and looked around, wondering how she would explain the new color of larkspur that had appeared overnight.

"Kore?"

"Coming, Mother!" She blanched for a moment and tried to push the dream from her mind before stepping out of her room. She would meet her outside. Maybe she wouldn't notice the changed flowers. Kore took a deep breath and put on a bright smile.

"Are you ready yet?"

Kore skipped out of the bower. "Good morning!"

Demeter's own smile quickly turned to horror when she saw her daughter. "Where did you get those?"

"Get what?" Kore said, confused.

"The asphodel! Where did you find these poison weeds?!" she said, snatching at one of the flower in Kore's hair.

She ducked out of the way as Demeter tried to pulled at another. "Mother! What's the matter with you?! They started growing this morning in my—"

Demeter cupped her hand over her mouth with a gasp, not giving Kore time to finish her sentence before she ran into the shrine.

"Mother, why are you— Mother!" Kore stumbled in to find Demeter on her knees amidst the newly grown flowers, tearing them out root and stalk.

Demeter turned around to look at her daughter. Her eyes were stained with tears, and her voice became a whisper as she looked around wide eyed and pale. "He was here."

Kore turned as white as the flowers that were withering in her mother's clenched fist and swallowed hard. "Wh-who was here?"

"Do not lie to me! Did he hurt you?"

Kore's eyes started to water. "No, Mother, there was no one here. No one hurt me. It was just a dream. I woke up surrounded by these pretty white flowers."

Demeter grew angry, her eyes flashing, her voice low. "If that monster laid a finger on you…"

Kore blushed at the memory of his fingers, then felt her voice catch in her throat, tears spilling from her eyes. "Mother, please! It was just a dream. I saw someone in it, and then when I woke up— I told you— I was just surrounded by all these flowers."

Demeter stood up and took her by the wrist and marched out of the sacred place. "Dear child, you are no longer safe here," she panicked, her voice wavering. Kore heard the rushing of barley around them. Her mother prepared to transport them away, as she did when she visited the great mountain.

"Where are we going? Olympus?" Kore said, following her.

"You are in even greater danger there. We are going to the fields of Nysa. Pallas Athena and Artemis Alphaea, the virgin warriors, will watch over you."

"But what about the harvest?"

"It can wait. They all can wait," she turned to Kore, brushing her tears away as the stalks of barley wound into the silver filaments of the ether, opening a pathway over land and sea. "I don't know what I would do if I lost you, my child."

Kore clenched her jaw silently and looked down, hiding her anger from Demeter. She wanted to see him again, and hiding in Nysa would make that impossible.

* * *

"Your Excellency, I simply did what you asked of me." Even in the Underworld, the Lord of Dreams stood in shadows, his face hooded, his blind eyes veiled.

"Morpheus, I asked you to send me to Persephone so that I could introduce myself to her as her betrothed. Not to have us meet in the dream world naked and embraced!" Hades Aidoneus felt his frustration rise. White-hot memories of holding Persephone shuddered through him unbidden.

"I manifested what was in your heart of hearts. My world is not the waking world. You just can't walk into it with expectations of—"

"You saw us together!"

"I see _all_ in the dreamworld. Do you really think I just sat there and watched both of you through the night? And honestly, Aidoneus, what I did see was relatively tame. For Fates' sake, I have to preside over Thanatos' dreams, and let me tell you—"

Hades narrowed his eyes at him, his silent anger filling the room, palpable enough to be felt by Morpheus.

"Aidon, truthfully—" he said, stepping out of the marble column's shadow, "How you came to her, what you saw, what you did— all of it was of your own making. I am not responsible for the desires of your heart, and I will not be the focus of your anger over it. Those feelings are yours to contend with."

Aidoneus shifted uncomfortably between the wide arms of his ebony throne. He had arrived in the dream unclothed, holding her thin arms, his body pressed against her back. Morpheus had given Aidon the choice of appearing to Persephone in false form, or as himself. But the way he had come to her in the dream, the way he had felt when he was with her, the words he had dared to speak to her, were almost as unfamiliar as she was.

Morpheus felt the Lord of the Underworld's anger relent as Aidon retreat into thought.

"If that is all…"

"Yes; go, my friend. You need to prepare for tonight, and I've kept you long enough."

Morpheus drew out a thin gray arm and wrapped his black cloak around him before disappearing into mist. Aidoneus stood up and descended the stairs of the olivine dias. The room was still, and his footsteps echoed through the empty hall as he made his way to the torchlit terrace outside.

Its view swept out over the river Styx, silently flowing broad and dark across the fields below. He felt the cool air of the Underworld wash over him and sighed, leaning on the balcony edge. Aidoneus dug his fingers into his temples and closed his eyes. Next to the terrace was a waterfall that flowed upward along the cliff, its roaring cascade of water feeding the rivers of the corporeal world above. The sound of the falls and the cooling mist that rose from it usually gave him some measure of peace, but it couldn't soothe him now. The Lord of Dreams was right.

He took the golden arrow out of his robes and held it in his hand, turning it over. This small thing had only scratched his palm, and now her face was everywhere in his mind, awakening potent and dangerous feelings where there had been none before. He thought only about her flower-strewn hair, her pale arms and small breasts. The gentle curve of her hips. Her legs. The warmth between them.

He pulled himself away from the balcony and walked back in, still clutching the arrow. Persephone had been only a name to him— the daughter of Demeter who was to be his queen— but was now made flesh, a woman. He had not expected to arrive in the dream world and find himself holding her so intimately, his body readily responding to the closeness of hers. All rational thought had vanished the moment he looked into her eyes…

He would throw this cursed arrow headlong into the river if it weren't so dangerous— if he didn't already know the powerful consequences it had for him, and the unknown feelings it could bestow on others.

"Lord Hades," a rich female voice said.

He turned to see a woman wrapped in a dark crimson peplos and cloak. Her long red hair, loosely woven through with a silver ribbon, cascaded down her back. Round selenite beads adorned the crown of her head, sweeping down to hold a silver half moon charm over her forehead. Hecate. Her bare feet were tucked up underneath her as she sat on the base of a column in the corner of the great chamber. Aidon's breath hitched. "Have you found her?"

"The field from your dream was Eleusis. Demeter's and Persephone's worshippers reside there."

"I will go to Eleusis tonight, then."

"She's no longer there," Hecate said calmly. "I can see their thoughts… You'd think Demeter would be more careful. If she is traveling through the ether, I can find them."

"Why did they go?"

Hecate closed her eyes to look into the ether. Within its hidden world she saw feelings, hopes, curses, the past, the future, the present, all flowing together in a chaos she alone could interpret. Hecate searched for Demeter and Persephone and tried to pluck the first coherency she could grasp. A smile crossed her face. "Did you plant asphodel in her shrine?"

"No," he said, confused, "I— Wait; is that a euphemism for something?"

Hecate opened her eyes and snickered quietly. "No, my lord. I was being quite literal. I saw asphodel flowers, your own sacred blooms, growing where she sleeps. That made me curious— perhaps you had her, and wanted to make it known? In her dream, are you sure you didn't—"

"Dishonor her? No. I almost…" That part he remembered very clearly. Aidon swallowed, then gritted his teeth together. The memory of nearly losing control before she stopped him welled up through him. He turned away. "What is happening to me? I can't stop thinking about her; it's as if she's possessed me."

"Aidon, this is a new sensation for you; do not fear it, or fear the confusion that it brings," she said calmly. "You have only begun to glimpse how powerful these feelings truly are. Love is why most mortals call upon my priestesses. They work magic with my gifts, spells that can swell the desire of men and gods alike, giving them furious passion powerful enough to make them rend their own flesh."

"Zeus's little winged demon poisoned me!"

"And what a sly little monster he is, isn't he? Drawing forth _your_ greatest desires with his arrows…" She watched as he narrowed his eyes at her, the words ringing true. "I assure you, Aidon, there was no poison on that arrow. The wound Eros made only broke the lock on your heart and set free what was waiting inside."

He put the arrow back into the folds of his robe. _What was waiting inside_… Aidon didn't know which prospect disturbed him more: that this had opened up in the first place, or that these feelings had been roiling under the surface unseen for aeons. "If Eros opened that door, then you need to close it, Hecate."

"So soon, Aidoneus? You've seen this treasure— tasted it, I dare say— and you'd have me shut it away again? I wonder why would you ask me to do this."

"Because this was supposed to be simple. Ordered," he said sharply, pacing the stone floor. "I've received what was due to me for my part in the war. She's already consecrated to me— I have my queen, and we will rule together. All I had to do was take her and be done with it. Now it's been complicated by these… desires… to—"

"To win her? To make her love you?"

He thinned his lips and turned away from Hecate.

"Your influence here is great, but not all souls bend to your will. Not even your own, hm? Our destinies are mysterious, Aidon; they are woven with threads we do not always expect to see. Even if you don't trust the weavers, you may be certain that they weave with a pattern in mind."

"The Olympians don't have to contend with this! Their adoration lasts only as long as their lust. Where are these 'mysterious weavers' for them?"

"Aidoneus, look…" she said, motioning to the inverted waterfall outside. "The rivers of their world don't flow like ours. Our ways are not their ways. This is Chthonia; the Other Side."

Hecate closed her eyes once more, her mind prodding and exploring the ether, searching for signs of Persephone.

Aidon thought about the flowers growing where they lay together in the dream. He couldn't have grown a weed from the richest soil if the safety of the living world depended on it; Persephone had brought them to life herself. But why out of all the flowers did she choose his? He had taken great pains to conceal his identity to her.

"Oh, I see," Hecate said, her eyelids fluttering as she followed the trail of thoughts emanating from Persephone. Her silent smile turned into a light laugh. "She grew them while she slept, from the seeds you planted in her dream. Your true nature may yet be shrouded to her eyes, but another part of her knows you very well indeed." Hecate's gaze darted to his face.

Then Hades did something he had never done before in all his ageless years. He blushed.

"And every larkspur in existence, which for all the ages have been white, are now crimson, purple and pink? Hades Aidoneus, whatever did you do to her?" she said in a singsong voice, a wide smile on her face.

"Enough!" He looked away from Hecate.

"I daresay you did enough, indeed." Hecate smirked, until she felt confusion wash over him. Her face softened and she spoke gently. "Why feel shame, Aidon?"

"Because I'm not supposed to feel… _alive_! Look around you. These foolish passions have no place here!"

Hecate silently walked across the floor to him and reached out a hand to his forehead. "What you feel for her is not as far outside our world as you think. Open your mind."

Her eyes closed and she spoke to him in the three voices of her aspects, the Maiden, the Woman, and the Crone. He closed his eyes as her fingertips moved to his temples. Aidoneus felt her reach further from where her fingers met his skin, touching the deepest parts of his mind, restoring order to his thoughts, soothing him. He breathed out as the chaos and confusion that had plagued him since he awoke was given shape and form. Feelings gained sigils and signifiers through her intervention. Need. Purpose. Longing. Desire. Rapture. Lust.

"Love," the voice of the Maiden said.

"I never thought that word."

"You didn't have to," the three voices answered.

Hecate watched the maelstrom of thoughts flash through his mind. The past. The feel of her soft skin, the press of her naked flesh, their mutual need. Hands running through hair, lifting, entangling. The present. Cypress and wind; fire and union in the void.

The future. Red flowers clinging to a tree that rose from the field of gray, branches twining through others' branches. Red, ripe fruit hung on interlocked boughs. Radiating out from the tree came soft grasses and flowers that spread over immeasurable ground. Hecate imparted in three voices what she saw. "Embrace and cherish these visions, Hades Aidoneus. They belong to both of you."

Aidon opened his eyes. Hecate was again seated on the column base as though she hadn't moved at all. In all likelihood, she hadn't.

"You need to feel her again and know that she feels you— don't you, Aidoneus?" Her voice was once again singular.

"Yes," he whispered hoarsely. "Yes, I do."

"I will search for Persephone for you," she said, and closed her eyes. Silence filled the room, and Hades stood still, waiting. A moment later, Hecate spoke of her vision.

"Nysa," Hecate said, reaching into the earth goddess's mind from afar. "She's sheltering Persephone in Nysa."

"The fields of Nysa?" Aidon shook his head in partial relief. "If I can count on Demeter at all, it's to not think anything through when she's angry," he said under his breath.

"It's too early for dreams; don't bother waking Morpheus. You must go to her yourself, but Demeter must not see you, or sense your presence at all. I'll send you in the wind this time."

"How will I find her?"

"You won't have to. She will come to you."

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

_Chthonia - from the Greek Chthonios (Χθόνιος) meaning 'beneath the earth' or 'of the earth'. It is feminized here, and used as an epithet for Hades' realm. In mythology it is also used as a surname for many of the female chthonic and earthly deities._


	6. Chapter 5

Demeter and Kore emerged from the blades of barley into a rolling grassy meadow surrounded by groves of trees, each grove sacred to a deity. Nysa was the eternal field of the gods, and Kore's home as a child. She had played with her friends here. Persephone remembered Ares swinging a wooden sword against the grasses under the watchful eye of Hera. Little Apollo once brought her a fistfull of small daisies and recited awkward love poetry, to her mother's great consternation. Tall Athena, a woman in body and a child at heart then, and wild Artemis ran with her in the field and played games of knucklebones by the creek. When Kore flowered into womanhood, her mother abruptly took her from their company and she hardly ever saw them again.

"Kore!"

She heard her cousin Artemis call to her from the edge of the valley. She jogged toward them with her long, sandal-strapped legs. Artemis wore a quiver of arrows on her back, its leather strap holding her short white hunting chiton against her body. The virgin huntress' honey colored hair was short and simple, coiffed into a messy chignon at the base of her neck. She waved a hand to them as she ran.

Kore waved back, then turned to Demeter. "How long do I have to stay here?"

"Until I know for certain that you're safe. I will tend the harvest alone this time." She held Kore close and kissed her on the cheek. "They will look after you, my child. Do not leave the meadow. Do not talk to anyone or anything while I'm gone."

Kore watched her mother vanish into a rush of barley, bound for Eleusis. The virgin goddesses were younger than her, but looked older, having already fully taken on their divine roles. Although she felt a faint twinge of envy, Kore was thankful to see them. Artemis, athletic and sun flecked, bounded over to Kore and gave her hug. "Finally we get to see you again!"

"Arte!" she embraced her back. "I wish it were under better circumstances."

Fair-haired Athena stood up from the grasses next to them, and finished reading a short scroll before rolling it up and stashing it between her breasts. She adjusted the plate armor that held her flowing peplos in place and joined their conversation. "We will make them better," she said. "And don't worry. Arte and I have scoured the entire plain. You're safe here."

Kore smiled thinly to hide her feelings from Arte and Athena. That meant the man from her dreams wasn't here and would most likely never find her. She absently picked the last remains of the asphodel out of her hair. Her mother had cowed her about the flowers throughout the journey to Nysa. "What were you doing before I arrived? Can I join you?"

"Well," Artemis said, "we were making a garland for you, because we haven't seen you in so long. But… you know me; I'm no good with flowers."

"We hope you like it," Athena added, shyly holding it out for Kore's examination. The garland was a tidy braid of laurel and olive sprigs laced with wild celery, whose tiny white blossoms provided the only break in the greenery.

"Oh, thank you!" Kore said, accepting the gift from her cousin's calloused hands. She sat down in the soft grass and let Artemis wind her hair into a coronet.

"Your dress is still so short," Artemis said. "Do you keep it that way for the hunt?"

"No, I don't hunt like you, Arte," she said, smiling and lowering her head to hide her embarrassment.

Athena spoke. "Well, have you ever thought about letting it down?"

Kore looked at her bare knees and blushed. "Mother doesn't approve."

Athena stepped in front of Kore and pointedly looked to the right and left. She smiled and leaned down. "I don't see her here to disapprove. Come on! You can change it back when she gets here. We won't tell."

Kore fidgeted for a moment. "I'm— I can't do that to her. I've already put her through enough for one day."

Athena gave her a pained smile. "I understand. Sorry; I didn't mean to upset you."

"There! And beautiful, I might add." Artemis finished winding and weaving Kore's hair and placed the garland on top.

"Persephone…"

She froze, hearing her name on the wind.

"Who's there?" She looked at her cousins, eyes wide. "Did… did you hear that?"

Athena and Artemis stilled and exchanged a quick glance. Artemis swallowed. "H-hear what?"

"Nothing… it must have been my imagination," she said, walking into the field. She had spent her childhood in the shadow of the sacred groves of the Olympians. As a girl, Kore had laid a circle of river stones in the meadow and filled it with all her favorite flowers, hoping someday to have a sacred grove of her own. "Do you remember the secret garden I planted?"

Athena smiled. "Of course I do! But it wasn't as big a secret as you thought it was. Father loved it! Said it was his favorite 'sacred grove'. I think your mother knew about it too."

"Oh," Kore blushed. "I'd wondered what's happened to it. Want to visit it with me?"

"We'll finish gathering the left over twigs from the garland. And I think I may take another pass around the meadow," Artemis said, "Can we join you later?"

"Of course!" Kore said cheerfully as she walked off into the grasses.

"My Queen…" the wind whispered once more.

Her heart thrummed in her ears. She recognized that voice and turned in its direction, a narrow grove of cypress. Kore looked back at Artemis and Athena, still bent over in the grass picking up remnants of her floral crown. They must not have heard it. She walked slowly, one foot following the other toward the cypresses, her heart beating out of her chest.

Athena looked up to see her walk away. Demeter had enlisted their protection long ago in case anyone came for Kore. She shuddered, remembering dark Aidoneus stalking through the throne room toward her father yesterday, demanding his rights to Kore as Demeter cried out against it. Athena looked back to Artemis, who was biting her lip, her eyes welling up with tears. The huntress looked away to watch Kore walk toward the cypress trees, and moved to stand up and follow after her.

"Don't," Athena whispered, clasping her sister's trembling hand. "Father told us not to interfere. It will be all right, Arte."

* * *

Demeter planted one foot after another in the warm soil of the fertile fields. The Eleusinians picked the first shoots of wheat and barley of the harvest, singing praises to Demeter and Kore and carrying their effigies before them. Even in their midst, she could barely hear them. Hades was coming for her only child and she was preparing herself to meet him directly, to protect Kore from the Lord of the Underworld at all costs. She wiped a tear from her eye. Her daughter was safe for now in Nysa, but it was only a matter of time before he learned where she had fled.

He had profaned Kore's sacred house with his ugly bog flowers, sowing them around her sleeping body. Demeter angered, and watched as the ripe golden husks around her shriveled and turned grayish brown. She walked away from the withered crops, barely aware of the dismayed voices of the villagers behind her.

There must be a way she could save her daughter from the Land of the Dead. She thought of the beautiful and virginal naiad queen Daphne, lustfully pursued by Apollo. To save herself from rape and destruction she had cried out to Gaia, the earth, who had answered her desperate prayers. Gaia had turned Daphne into a laurel tree, and she was saved and made sacred for all time.

Ice filled her heart. If she did this to their daughter, Zeus might never forgive her. She would be banished from Olympus, to walk the earth as a minor goddess. But at least Kore would be safe. At least Demeter could be with her beloved daughter forever. When Hades came to claim her, all he would find would be a new tree— a beautiful, flowering tree to honor her. Kore would be the most lovely tree in existence. Demeter wept. The waves of barley next to her rotted on the stalk and the grains turned to dust.

Demeter would bring her back to Eleusis and Kore would be these people's sacred tree for all time. She sobbed, remembering her sweet girl toddling through the fields of Nysa as a young child. She knew that she would never see Kore running through the field, never hold her, never see her weave another garland or give life to another new flower, and her daughter would never forgive her. But if she did nothing, her precious Kore would be trapped for eternity in the gray nothingness of Other Side, prey to the will of cold and unfeeling Aidoneus.


	7. Chapter 6

The crisp smell of cypress met her as she stepped into the shade. Kore's eyes adjusted to the dappled light of the grove, and she saw soft wild celery covering the shaded soil with bursts of white asphodel growing in the patches of sunlight. Defiantly, she picked the flowers and wove them into the garland crown her cousins had given her.

The grove was silent except for her breath. In the meadow she had either heard his voice calling to her, or she was going mad. She picked a tiny asphodel bloom and twirled it in her hand. Her body warmed, feeling his presence. "Listen to me… I know you're here. And I know you came to me in my dreams last night."

The cypresses rustled as a breeze swept through their upper branches. She looked up, searching for him. "Why did you bring me here? And why did you plant the asphodel in my shrine last night?"

The wind in the grove closed in around her, and answer forming in its wake. "Your crown…"

Kore touched the flowered wreath in her hair. "You don't like it?"

"On the contrary," the wind whispered to her, "Your bridal crown is beautiful…"

"Bridal crown," she echoed breathlessly, her voice faltering as she remembered his words from last night. She reached without thinking to the wreathed branches. Her heart jumped into her throat when she realized what she was wearing: laurel and olive were for weddings. Kore looked around her, wishing she could see him.

"When I take you as my queen, Persephone, your crown shall be every jewel in the earth. Every ounce of its wealth will be your adornment…"

She spun in a circle, wishing she could find a source for his voice. It made her dizzy, this phantom wind, and these thoughts of leaving here with him, of being a queen, showered in wealth and jewels. And strange too, how he kept calling her by the name her father gave her.

"Why do you keep using my other name?"

"It is who you truly are," Aidoneus said on the wind, "It's who you were born to be."

A breeze whipped past and she felt warm hands on her shoulders and arms. She flinched involuntarily, then settled into their grasp. "Who are you?"

His mind raced, thinking of all the horrifying things Demeter may have said about him. He had to tell Persephone something. He willed himself to coalesce enough to touch her and with a sigh of the wind, brushed past her lips. "Please call me Aidon."

"Aidon…" she repeated.

"Yes…" He felt himself quicken when she said his name for the first time. Relief washed over him as she relaxed, unafraid. He brushed past her breasts, feeling the nipples pull taut under the thin chiton.

Kore felt arms encircling her as though the breeze itself were embossed with his form. The fresh and woody smell of cypress filled her, and she let out a delicate sigh.

Aidon could feel her, not just in the dream world, but real and present. He was the very air around her, engulfing her. He could feel the pulse of every vein, every twitch of flesh, every small bead of perspiration as her heart beat faster from his incorporeal touch. His senses were suddenly filled with the heady scent of flowers. He concentrated, solidifying, wanting to touch her skin with his own hands.

Kore closed her eyes. He surrounded and embraced every part of her, lifting her gently. She could feel her heels start to rise from the ground, and the loose fabric of her sleeve slipped down one arm.

"I will come for you tonight, sweet one." Aidon tugged down the fabric and blew a kiss on her neck, whispering into her ear. "But I couldn't wait that long to feel you again."

Kore felt the edge of her neckline roll over her nipple. Her areola pulled taut, exposed to the air and to him. "Aidon…"

She moaned his name. Aidon felt pleasure roll through him and blew on her exposed nipple, watching her shudder and arch closer to him with a gasp. Kore felt a warm rush of air wrap its way behind her knee and around her hip. She felt a solid arm, a hand and fingers pressing into her skin.

She gasped as he encircled her, her feet finally lifting off the ground, her body supported by invisible arms before being set down on the soft wild grass. The skirt of her chiton blew back, exposing her thighs.

"You're almost too beautiful…" he whispered.

"This isn't fair," Kore pleaded, "I want to touch you too…"

"Soon, sweet one…"

His hands trailed over her exposed breast and her stomach, dancing along her flesh.

"…very soon."

Aidon was overwhelmed. He would give anything in this moment to materialize in front of her, to be as they were in their dream. He knew too that he wouldn't be able to stop himself this time, and doubted she would stop him either. Moving across her body, he caught the scent of wildflowers again and delved for its source.

A hot breath of air teased the curls between her thighs. Kore arched and parted them, feeling a hand brush over her mound. Aidon watched her flesh jump in front of him as he stroked her, learning her.

Her creamy thighs were open to him, her scent pouring out on the wind. A fine down of dark brown curls covered her nether lips. He traced their seam; watching as her hips moved from side to side and her breathing became shallow.

Every shiver of her flesh, every arch of her body made Aidon's heart beat faster, urging him onward. The tips of his fingers were met with slick warmth, and a punctuated gasp from Kore that made him inhale sharply, feeling the unfulfilled pains of his arousal. Shaking, his fingers glided down to her entrance and lingered there for a moment before traveling upward slowly through the folds. When he neared the apex, she let out a sharp cry and sprang back from his touch.

Aidon instantly rose up along the length of her body, smoothing his hand over her cheek. "Did I hurt you?"

She shook her head. "No. It… Can you please do that again?" she said meekly.

He smiled and gingerly steadied her mound with the palm of his hand. His finger met soft heat once more and sunk between her labia, tracing a path upward through the center until he felt her jump again. He stopped, learning where that was, feeling the tiny nub of flesh pulse under his finger. He waited for her to still and relax against him, and then started moving his finger in a slow circle.

The feel of his unseen fingers stroking her flesh filled her body with fire and familiarity, a longing she couldn't place for something she never knew she needed. Her hands and feet clenched and tingled, flames licking through her.

His winding finger moved faster. Every stroke of his hand against Kore's new found epicenter shook her. Her lips, the tips of her breasts, her thighs twitched. Even her voice wasn't hers anymore, responding only to his caress. Every motion was a new thrill of pleasure. Something primal and inexorable began to wind within her, tightening every muscle of her body, searching, deepening, arching her closer.

Aidon felt her rising to him, her cries heating him and spurring him on. Her voice made his need a torture, unquenchable and unrelenting in his current form. He leaned over her and took the exposed nipple into his mouth and sucked it gently, driving her over an unseen edge.

Kore burst. Light danced behind her closed eyes and her head tilted back. She twisted and flailed, cried out his name and gasped, and the world fell away. Waves rolled through her as she felt his hand move away and travel up the length of her body to hold her. His lips teased along her cheek and she heard him breathing in time with her, steadying her body and supporting her until the tremors stopped and all she felt was his unseen hand grasping her arm.

"Persephone, I—" his voice shuddered.

Kore felt cool grass against her back, the soft earth beneath it supporting her, and then the caress of the wind was gone. He was gone. The grove was quiet once again, save for the sound of her heart beating in her eardrums.

* * *

Aidoneus materialized in his realm, and looked around in shock, drawn away from her against his will. He stumbled backward and slammed his palm hard on the edge of his ebony throne, regaining his balance. His knees were shaking. Desire for her had come with him. He looked down at the flesh straining against his robes, and held it firm against his body, covering and protecting himself as he gasped for air. His blood coursed through him like the molten river Phlegethon.

Aware of his presence, Hecate's eyes were closed, her brow knitted. "Aidoneus—"

"How dare you!" he bellowed, "Do you have any idea—"

"A very good idea, yes. But leaving you there with her would have been more dangerous than delicious, I'm afraid. There will be trouble…"

He watched her eyes tighten again as she concentrated once more, listening for a voice in the ether.

"I have to have her," he growled as he waited for Hecate to speak, willing his legs to carry him to where he could sit down. "I must have her tonight. When the sun sets—"

Hecate flinched and cried out, the voice piercing her mind— a wail of grief from the ether that was bending slowly into madness. "It will be too late!"

"What do you mean?"

"Demeter. She's coming for Persephone."

"She can't stand in my way; not now," he said, feeling his control come back, his lust subsiding.

"She won't. Aidon, she will do worse. I understand now— I could feel her fear distilling into something sharp and desperate, but I was too focused on aiding your visit to Persephone. To keep you immaterial was not easy, with you in that state..." Hecate stood. "You are familiar with the tale of Daphne?"

A pregnant moment passed before his eyes grew wide. Realization and horror scalded him like acid. "Gods above…"

He stood and strode across the room. Hecate followed him down the halls and corridors, running to keep pace. His himation shifted its form, winding around his body. The folds of fabric hardened, becoming the golden cuirass of his armor. Aidoneus had not worn it since they cast Cronus into the Pit and ended the war. His long black cloak unfurled behind him as he stormed to the stable. He reached out through the ether as Hecate had taught him long ago and felt his helm materialize in his hand.

"Hades!" she said as he raise it over his head.

He spun on Hecate, his face contorted in rage. "I'll cast Demeter into the fire if I have to!"

She started and drew back, then followed him again as Aidoneus continued onward. The corridor opened up into to the massive open stable of the underworld, its floor concentric ringed cobblestones of black granite. He grabbed his iron standard from inside the gate and walked out to the center of the yard.

"This madness is not fixed by fate, Aidoneus! If Demeter reaches Persephone before you, be assured that the world will know her only for her slender branches and the gentle shade she gives. But such eternal changes have rules, and you can still prevent it. And you can save your bride in a more peaceful way than throwing the goddess of the fruitful harvest into the depths of Tartarus!"

He hammered the staff on the ground, the ringing echoing through the yard. Dark granite cracked beneath it, a glow of orange light radiating out from the point of impact. Aidoneus calmly strode back to Hecate's side as the stones fell away, lighting the room with reflected fire. She looked up at him, remembering aeons ago how Aidoneus had single-handedly rallied her and her acolytes over to Zeus's cause during the war. That same taciturn warrior stood with her now, watching the rising smoke and listening to the approaching gallop of horses from the chasm.

"What way?" he said, finally.

Hecate looked into his eyes through the golden, black-crested helm that rendered him invisible to anyone he chose. She raised her voice as the ground beneath them started to shake. "Persephone can only be transformed that way if she is as Daphne was— intact."

Aidon's head snapped down to acknowledge the weight of what she said. A maelstrom of realization, unfulfilled need, and trepidation ran through him, the helm barely hiding his emotions. "That's not how—"

With a shrill neigh, four dark coursers burst upward through the smoking gap, their manes and hooves sable black, their eyes glowing with fire. They pulled a great quadriga chariot behind them. It gleamed in the molten light from the chasm below, and then the ground started to close again with a grinding roar. The chariot had served Aidoneus well during the war, and would now serve him again. He returned the standard to the wall and stalked toward the cart. There was no time.

As Aidoneus grabbed the reins, a cloud of black smoke flowed out around the chariot, the chargers whinnying and stamping their feet. Hecate's voice rang out over the cacophony of the giant beasts. "If you love her, Aidoneus, if you want to save her, you will do what must be done!"

She watched from the gate as the chariot drove away. Aidoneus rode headlong for the living world and his Persephone.


	8. Chapter 7

It took several minutes for Kore to rise. He had left her there, had disappeared in the midst of speaking, leaving her bewildered. Her chiton was wrenched out of place and her back was damp from the floor of the grove. She stood, confused by his disappearance, and looked around her once more. Had he truly gone? Was he still somewhere nearby? What would make him leave her so abruptly? Kore knew Aidon would come back; that he would return tonight. She would ask him then.

A heavy feeling settled in her chest. No matter how natural she felt with him, she had no idea who he was. She would be surrendering herself to him— a complete stranger. Her thoughts returned to the wedding party in Eleusis, how the man had taken the woman in the tent, pushing in and out of her, the pain on the woman's face when they first joined. Would she feel that same pain?

She remembered Aidon in her dream, the unseen hardness that had pressed against her hip and then rested against her stomach, pulsing and hot. She remembered him drawing his heat away, stopping himself from taking her. Her heart beat faster and a shuddering need flooded into her at the idea of Aidon lying astride her, entering her slowly. Her flesh still throbbed from his touch as she left the grove and returned to the sunlit meadow.

The sun was lower in the sky. In a few hours, it would sink below the horizon and he would come to claim her. His queen. _Queen of what?_

She could still hear her heart hammering in her chest as she gazed across the the field of Nysa, its rolling hills blanketed in a host of flowers. There was no sign of Artemis or Athena. Down the hill from the cypresses, she saw the little stone circle she had created as a girl and walked toward it, readjusting her crown and tucking stray hairs back behind her ears. She felt around the garland's edges, making sure the leaves and flowers weren't lopsided from lying in the grove with Aidon.

"_Your bridal crown…"_

Kore shivered again, and stepped into the stone enclosure. Her little garden was almost exactly as she'd left it. She knelt to pick a tall crocus, examining the wide scalloped petals in her hand. As she walked on, she was tormented by questions, trying to fit all the pieces together. Her lady mother must at least know of Aidon. His demonstration of his power— appearing in her dream, calling to her and caressing her on the wind— meant that he wasn't just any immortal, but a mighty god. Perhaps Demeter was mistaken this morning when she saw the asphodel, thinking it meant something else. Maybe she would rejoice when she found out that her daughter was to become a queen.

She picked an iris and a larkspur, blushing the same pink color as the flower she had transformed last night. In the end, wouldn't Demeter simply want Kore to be happy? She imagined her mother coming to visit her in a beautiful palace once she was queen of…

_What's this? _she thought. The very center of the garden had been carefully manicured, and not by her. The grasses were cut low in a circle, and in the center stood the most beautiful bloom she'd ever seen. Kore peered at the flower. Its white blossom stood out against the velvet green carpet of short grass. She walked toward it, mesmerized, her gathered flowers falling from her open hand. White, rounded petals perfectly surrounded and radiated out from a short golden trumpet. She gently reached out and turned the blossom over in her hand, examining it. It smelled so sweet, its fragrance heady and foreign. She reached for the stalk with both hands and gave it a quick snap.

The earth trembled.

Kore fell to the ground as it split underneath her, a great crack in the earth yawning through the center of her little garden. She looked around in horror and crawled backwards along the shifting earth, then got up with one knee. A rush of dark smoke jetted from the center of the chasm, surrounding her and obscuring her vision, clouding the sky and turning the sun blood red. Distantly, she heard horses galloping, their approach growing louder. She ran in the opposite direction, tripping once over the stone border.

A shriek from a horse split the air. She looked over her shoulder to see the silhouette of four horses against the darkened sky, drawing behind them a massive chariot. Their eyes glowed like fire and mist trailed from their nostrils. A cloaked shadow spurred them on.

Kore turned on her heels. "Athena! Arte! Help me!"

The hoofs drowned out her cries. They were gaining on her.

"Mother! Mother please! Where are you mother?!" Kore yelled, hearing the rumble of the wheels and the dark shadow they carried behind her.

"Aidon! Save me! AIDON!"

Aidoneus leaned hard over the side of the chariot, balancing on the edge for support, and grabbed Persephone around the waist, holding her in the crook of one arm.

Kore's feet left the ground and she screamed long and loud, kicking and flailing against the shadow. Her feet met a shifting platform and a gauntleted arm pinned her fast to its owner. Persephone looked up to his face. It was covered with a dark gold helm that was crested with long black horsehair. Only his bearded chin and mouth were visible beneath it. She screamed again, beating her hands against the hard plates of his golden cuirass until they were sore and bruised.

Her screams finally started to form words. "Let me go! Let me go!"

"HOLD ON!"

Her blood ran cold and she stopped moving. That voice… She looked up into his eyes through the helm and felt herself tilt backward, the entire chariot driving downward as she screamed. The earth swallowed them whole. Persephone heard deafening cracks as chasms opened before them and shut behind them, each gallop bringing the heat of the earth closer to her.

They broke through solid rock into a great glowing chamber. Bits of earth hung from above, red and heated. The chariot drove down, falling and shaking. She looked behind her at the gaping maw of molten earth far below and grasped at the smooth planes of armor, scrambling to find a handhold. Persephone's eyes widened in terror. "Don't let me go! Please! Don't let me go!"

Persephone felt the heat grow more intense around her as they rode on. She smelled burning wool, and looked down to see flames licking up the side of her leg. The air itself had set the skirt of her chiton on fire. She shrieked and slapped fruitlessly at the fabric, then felt it tear away from her with an upward wrench. The flaming garment and the garland from her hair burned away in his uplifted hand, their smoldering remnants turning to ash as they scattered behind the chariot.

She grabbed onto the straps of his cuirass just under his shoulders and looked up to see him remove his helm and smooth back his hair. Persephone shuddered and froze as Aidon looked down at her.

"Persephone! Persephone, I need you to trust me!" he yelled at her over the sound of the horses and the roar of twisting molten earth below. She scrambled and grasped at his neck, barely registering the fact that she was now naked. The blistering heat seared over her back until she felt his great black cloak wrap around her, pressing her against him.

Persephone felt him pull the reins hard with one hand and bring her body further up along his, his other arm encircling her waist. She wrapped her legs around him and was face to face with Aidon, his eyes and skin glowing in the red heat. Their eyes met. He looked tenderly at her for a moment, then turned away from her to steer them onward. The molten earth rushed toward them ever faster.

She closed her eyes against the heat and buried her face into his neck with a sob, waiting to feel the fires of the earth consume and devour them. Instead, the roaring heat stopped, and all grew quiet and cold around them.

For a moment she doubted how deathless she really was. Her eyes were awash in blackness and void. Her ears still rang from their passage through earth and fire. The horses pressed onward, quietly shaking the cart. She lifted her hand up in front of her face, and with a gasp, realized that she couldn't even see its outline. Persephone turned her palm until it met the side of his face. She traced the outline of an ear and high cheekbones, making sure that he was still there. As her hand passed over his nose and in front of his lips, he quickly kissed her palm.

She drew her hand back and listened to the sound of their breathing, the only noise now as the horses charged silently forward into the abyss. She felt the heat of his face turn toward her, and his mouth captured her lips. His arm closed tighter around her and she melted into his embrace with a tiny moan, feeling him truly kiss her for the first time. She kissed him back and bunched her fingers in the dark curls of hair cascading across his cloak. Persephone was suddenly very aware of her naked body wrapped around his. Aidon broke away from her mouth and kissed her cheek and neck, then lightly pulled on her earlobe with his lips.

"Don't be afraid, sweet one," he said quietly, sending a shiver through her. "We're only passing through Erebus. The light will return."

"My dress—"

"—and your crown. I apologize. Nothing mortal from your world can pass through the fire on the way to the Other Side."

"Wh-why did you take me like this?"

"You were in grave danger," Aidon said. "I had no other choice."

He tightened the reins and leaned toward her, feeling her legs locked around his waist. Persephone pressed against the front of him, and need started to consume him once more. Heat flowed from between her legs, enveloping him. She was still dripping wet from their time together in his sacred cypress grove. He felt the muscles of his stomach clench as instinct drew his groin closer to the source of that heat.

Aidon kissed her once more, relishing the softness of her lips, the feel of her fingers curling through the hair around the nape of his neck. Locking her arms and legs tighter, she copied him, kissing his cheek and earlobes. She pulled on one of them with her lips, tasting the edge with her tongue. Persephone listened to him take a long, ragged breath as he arched toward her.

Persephone shivered. _Erebus… the Other Side…_

"Who are you?" she whispered in his ear.

"I am Aidoneus," he whispered back.

Ice ran down Persephone's spine.

_Aidon… Aidon… Aidoneus…_

_Hades Aidoneus Chthonios Polydegmon. The Unseen One. Receiver of Many. Ruler of the Other Side and Lord of the Dead…_

Aidon crushed his lips against hers before she could respond. Persephone surrendered, opening to him and racing her tongue across his teeth. He moaned and smoothed his hand down her back. She felt herself burning for him as her mind battled between the truth of the man encircled by her naked body and the feel of his tongue tasting and possessing her.

His hand roughly cupped one cheek and gripped her flesh from underneath as she returned his deeper kiss, tasting him. Persephone mewled a soft moan into his mouth, feeling his hand drift lower, brushing over her vulva. He pulled back on her bottom lip with his teeth as his fingers caressed the wetness of her crease, cupping her intimately, hearing her gasp at his touch.

"I'm sorry." He broke off the kiss. His hand left her for a moment, reaching below her sex as he adjusted the front of his short tunic. Persephone felt him grasp her below the tailbone, his fingers burying into her flesh, "I wish there were more time and some other way."

She didn't understand what he meant until she felt herself sliding imperceptibly down his body, a hard heat butting up against her entrance. Every jump of the chariot slid her closer to him until the tip of him parted her labia, perched outside her gate. The faintest of light grew underneath them, finally showing Aidon's face. He looked at her with a gentle intensity; his eyes dilated dark with passion. She relaxed against him as he lingered at her entrance, throbbing against her.

Aidon looked at her face as she stared up at him. The growing light framed lips swollen from his kisses, a thin Grecian nose, and wild and wide pale blue eyes. He heard her heart beating, listened to her shallow breathing. He felt her flesh hot and twitching around him; her maidenhead perched upon him, the heat pouring out from her.

Eyes locked to hers, Aidoneus thrust up into Persephone.

…_and now she was his Queen._

Persephone cried out in pain and squeezed her eyes shut, stars trailing behind her closed lids. The length of him sent fire through her as she struggled to stay still and not make the throbbing of her torn barrier worse. The fullness of him stretching her made her legs shake around his waist, offering no quarter against how completely he possessed her. Persephone realized that he had not moved within her at all as she adjusted to him. She slowly opened her eyes and looked up at him; his head was tilted back, his face strained and eyes shut, his breathing shallow.

Aidon lowered his gaze to her once more, pleasure and remorse feuding within him. But above all else, he could feel her exquisite heat surrounding him. He steadied the reins with his free hand and watched her face, not moving until her pain subsided. Aidon kissed away a tear from the corner of her eye. Her breathing started to grow ragged as he kissed her cheek, his lips trailing to meet hers.

Trembling, she kissed him back, her heart at war with itself over the man who had just consummated his union with her. All thoughts vanished again as he slowly withdrew and thrust into her once more. The pain lessened. She felt him filling her, touching every nerve within her, pushing upward, pleasure shooting through her.

She instinctively squeezed around him, watching his eyes roll back and close with a low growl from deep in his throat. She met his next thrusting response to her with a gasp of pleasure. The pain dissipated into the background as he thrust once again, forming a rhythm inside her. She moaned into his mouth, everything but their joined bodies disappearing and falling away as he held her to him and she held him within her.

Persephone raked her fingers through his thick black curls of hair and felt his beard graze and chafe her chin as she kissed him. She broke away and locked eyes with him again. Aidon pushed into her, their breathing becoming one, her fingers interlacing behind his neck to crane back from his body, nearly resting her back on the cart's edge. The angle forced him deeper and she cried out, feeling his fullness within her, her insides coiling once again, reaching.

He stared down at her body, watching her breasts rock back with each thrust, the liquid flesh moving of its own accord. He watched surrender cross her face and felt waves within her tightening around him. Aidon brought her back against his body, looking into her eyes. "Persephone…"

Shuddering against him, she tilted her head back and exposed the long line of her neck. He kissed it as she rocked forward, moaning wordlessly, rippling around him, her heat pulling and stroking his shaft as he made his final thrusts into her depths.

Aidon threw his head back and cried out loud enough to nearly spook the horses, his shuddering body matching hers as she clung to him. In the distance, the outlines of his kingdom came into view. He wrapped the heavy cloak around them once again, cradling her, protecting her.

Very slowly, he slid out of her with a shudder, the cool air hitting his softening flesh. Her shaking legs disentangled from his waist as her body started to go limp, overwhelmed and exhausted. Aidon held her close. The arm she had wrapped around his neck draped outside the cloak, her head craned back against his shoulder. Her breasts rose and fell with her shallow breaths. Her eyes were closed.

The River Styx came into view, its calm light caught in the afterglow of the setting sun in the living world above. The horses started to slow down, the ground looming into view. Aidon landed them in the great stable courtyard and brought the chariot to a halt, finally testing his shaking knees. Behind the cover of his cloak, he adjusted himself and smoothed down the front of his tunic, stained with her essence and innocence. Persephone breathed lightly into the crook of his arm.

He unclasped his cloak and brought the other side around her, covering her slowly so he didn't wake her. He wrapped Persephone in its dark and heavy folds; her bare feet protruded from the edges. Aidoneus knelt down, one hand still supporting her shoulders, and brought his other hand under the crook of her knees, lifting her into his tired arms.

Persephone turned toward him in her sleep as he crossed the length of the courtyard to the dark gates and corridors beyond.


	9. Chapter 8

_Waiting dormant for untold aeons, the seeds took hold of the gray earth. They burst upward, writhing through soil made alive and fertile only for them. Carefully, the sprouts broke the surface, stretching. One pale leaf appeared after the other as they took their first breath and came to life. Each gasp for air grew a new branch as fragile as the gray flowers above them. They quickened and strengthened; sprouting new life, green, thriving…_

Warmth.

The first sensation that Kore could feel was warmth, as she lay with her eyes shut against the dappled flickering light. It had been a dream. The scent of warm olives hung about her. She had fallen asleep in the sunlight, under an olive tree in Nysa, and all this had been a dream. Mother would be there any minute.

But the ground under her was soft; too soft. It bunched in Kore's hands in waves of warm spun wool smoother than any chiton she had ever worn. Her feet lay under it. It was tucked around her breasts.

She opened her eyes. There was no sunlight. What greeted her instead was the light of small oil lamp flames, hundreds of them, each housed in a separate niche in the wall, stretching upward in a cascade of light and perfuming the room with olive. She shifted. As Kore moved she flinched in pain, feeling the heat of the path Aidoneus had blazed inside her. She muffled a sob.

Kore. Maiden. Maiden no more.

Her hand flew over her mouth. All her life she had been Kore. But in the old tongue, Kore meant 'maiden', and as surely as she felt the soreness overtake her center with every movement, she knew she was no longer a maiden. No longer Kore. Kore had burned away in the fires outside Erebus. She was Persephone. What was she, now? Furthermore, _where_ was she?

Surrounding her, walls of solid black marble with fine white veins reached upward to a domed ceiling above the bed, their smoothly hewn surface glowing in the flickering lamplight. The room was at least three times taller than Persephone. The ceiling above her was a translucent white onyx filtering soft light into the room from outside.

At the base of the softly lit dome were intricately carved images of beautiful nymphs playing in the fields, carrying a garland of asphodel. Cascading down from the lower edges of the carved garland, six soft panels of white fabric draped down and pooled on the floor around the bed. The diaphanous panels caught and softened the lamplight, mimicking sunlight through leaves. She traced the panels down to the ripples of black sheets surrounding and enveloping her naked body, then looked back up to the thick base of one of the columns, its fluted edges framing one side of a great ebony door.

A woman sat against the column, her eyes shut.

Persephone gasped and shrank back, pulling the sheet up to her neck. The woman was barefoot, a cascade of selenite beads woven through her red hair. Wispy white curls framed her face, and crow's feet stretched from the corners of her closed eyes. She listened to Persephone, feeling confusion sweep over the young goddess.

"So many questions. You are full to overflowing, poor child. I have answers for you," she said, opening her eyes and lifting them to meet Persephone's. "You are in the Palace of Hades. I am Hecate. Aidoneus asked me to watch over you. Those answers come in a good order, I hope?" Hecate smiled gently. "I must leave you soon, though. Aidon wants to know as soon as you are awake, and I have that news to bring him now."

While the questions to those answers had crossed her mind, Persephone had not yet said a word. She wrinkled her brow at this woman.

"Ah yes— your last question has an answer too. No, I have never coupled with him."

"Stop that!" she snapped, realizing that the woman had been reading her thoughts.

Hecate inclined her head in a slight bow. "As you wish, my Queen."

"What is this place?" Persephone said, looking around the room again.

"This room was created for you long ago," Hecate said, standing from her perch. Persephone gazed around the room once more. This was all hers? What did this woman mean by 'long ago'? Hadn't she just met Aidoneus? She sat up again and winced. Hecate gave her a compassionate smile. "You will heal, and quicker than you fear. Stay here, child, and rest yourself well. The journey through the earthen depths is long and… tiring."

"How long was I asleep?"

"A handful of hours. It's the middle of the day," she said, opening the ebony door.

"But the sun was setting a few hours ago. How can it be daylight?"

"This is the Other Side," Hecate said as she left the room, "we pass our days when it is night above."

Persephone swallowed hard. She was in the Underworld. _Lord Hades rules the Land of the Dead…_

She puzzled how a place deep under the earth could have any kind of night or day. She covered her body again with the sheet and looked through the opening door as Hecate disappeared from the room. The bedroom opened into a large antechamber, with ceiling and walls of solid, smooth amethyst illuminated by the soft light entering through the columns outside.

Persephone turned to the delicately carved ebony chair and raised table next to the bed. She gathered the sheet around her and slowly walked over to the chair, seeing a length of fine black cloth with a gold braided belt folded over it. Beside the garment, a necklace and two brooches were laid out for her. The golden jewelry was set with rubies, fire opals, and garnets, and it glowed even in the gentle light. The gems were arranged in the same shape as the fateful narcissus she had picked in Nysa before the earth cracked open beneath her.

Persephone wrapped the sheet around her and picked up the necklace with shaking hands. She raised it to her throat and watched as jewels cascaded perfectly across her collarbone and the top of her breasts, as though the necklace were designed to fit only her. She looked up and saw her reflection in a long mirror of polished hematite. The sheet slipped from beneath her arms and fell to the floor, and she stood staring at her naked form draped with blood red jewels. She shuddered and unclasped the necklace, nearly dropping it on the table. Persephone picked up the sheet and pulled it around her, feeling more naked than she had ever felt in her life.

_When I take you as my queen, Persephone, your crown shall be every jewel in the earth. Every ounce of its wealth will be your adornment…_

She sat back down on the bed and shuddered. Was this how the Eleusinian woman had felt after her wedding? And was she even married to Hades, or had he merely enjoyed her in the dark of Erebus outside his bonds? There was no ceremony. Tears fell on the sheet she clutched at her breast. She lifted the black cloth in her hands, buried her face in it and silently wept.

Persephone felt a hand stroke her shoulder, and looked up to see Hecate. She sobbed aloud, leaning her head onto the woman's hip.

"You burn in many ways, many places, dear child, I know. It will be no worse, and then it will pass, and you will heal," Hecate said, stroking her hair.

"My mother—"

"—Ill prepared you for what to expect of this day, and fought the Fates too long trying to prevent it."

"Expect? None of this was supposed to happen! I— one minute I was— I was _with_ him, and he tells me he will come for me tonight, then— then I picked a flower and— and—" Words disappeared as tears ran down her face and collected on the soft folds of Hecate's peplos. The woman stroked her hair silently, letting her cry. "My mother was coming back for me! He could have waited at least _that _long. I didn't even get the chance to tell her or say goodbye! She doesn't know where I am," Persephone said. "I don't even know where I am."

"You are with me." Persephone looked up to see Aidoneus standing in the doorway, his forehead etched with pain from listening to her sobs. A plain black tunic covered his chest, and a heavy dark gray himation was slung across it from his right hip over his left shoulder, where it was fastened with a gold etched asphodel brooch. His hair was bound back with a simple gold band. Three rings with enormous red stones glinted on his left hand as he motioned for Hecate to leave.

She narrowed her eyes at Aidon and looked down at Persephone once more, petting her hair. "I'll return if you need me," Hecate said, and bowed her head as she stepped away, "my Queen."

Aidoneus watched Hecate leave; confused by the way she glared up at him when she passed by. He slowly walked over to Persephone and sat beside her on the bed. Her skin glowed in the lamplight. She wiped her tears away, trying not to look him in the eye. They stared ahead in silence, Aidon searching for the spot on the floor Persephone seemed to be watching so intently.

"I couldn't sleep either," he finally said. Sleep never came easily for Aidoneus under any circumstance. But restlessness and strange dreams had plagued him in his own room until he finally gave up on sleep and waited for Persephone to wake. He ran a hand down her shoulder, cautiously trying not to touch her too much. Seeing her wrapped in the bed sheet, her back and bare shoulders exposed to him, started to inflame him. He had heard her cry out in pain in the dark of Erebus. He needed to get them out of this bedroom.

"Why didn't you tell me?" she whispered.

"Tell you what?" He stood to face her.

"You said your name was Aidon. You are Hades," she said aloud. "Why did you lie to me?"

He swallowed. "I prefer to be called Aidoneus; Aidon for short. Hades means too many things. It was the name my father gave me. It is the name the mortals give my realm," he said, kneeling in front of her and lifting her chin to face him. "It's a name that would have lost you to me."

The sadness and fear in her pale eyes cut through him like a knife. "Don't you think I at least deserved to know?"

"I wanted you to know me: Aidon. The person I am; the man who is your husband. If you had known me only as Hades, Ruler of the Underworld, would you have let me hold you? Would you have kissed me in our dream last night?"

Persephone turned away and blushed, heat rushing into her as she imagined Aidon caressing her, his hands running along her skin, and his tongue parting her teeth as they tasted each other. The heat flashing through her started to lessen the pain at her core. She cursed her traitorous body. "That's not a good excuse. You lied to me."

"Hades is also the name your mother would have used to turn you against me; to lie to you about me."

"She only told me your name and your title once, and said that the mortals cannot call your true name above ground. She never said anything further about you," Persephone said, narrowing her eyes at him. "Maybe she should have. And do not speak ill of her; ever. You stole me from her."

His mood darkened as she unknowingly mentioned the woman who had shattered all his careful plans. Aidon had prepared everything— he would appear to her in the living world just before sunset, ferry her across the Styx at dawn when his kingdom was at the apex of its beauty, and gently guide both of them when they consummated their marriage that night. Demeter and her madness were the reason he had been forced to abduct Persephone and hastily couple with her in the first place. "She doesn't own you."

Persephone stood up in a flash of anger. "Oh, so you own me, then?"

Aidon came up from his crouch to rise in front of her, standing a head taller than Persephone. Calm dark eyes stared down at her. His hands moved gently to her shoulders, dancing over her hot skin. She shuddered, inadvertently dropping the clutched sheet and revealing herself to him. Aidon inhaled sharply before he averted his eyes, trying to look anywhere in the room that wasn't her inviting body.

He turned back to her and stared directly into her eyes and nowhere else. "You may be my wife, but no one owns you, Persephone."

"Then let me go home."

"This _is_ your home."

"You know what I mean!"

Aidon released her shoulders and turned away from her. Persephone gathered the sheet around her again and sat down on the bed. With his back still turned to offer her privacy, he spoke again. "It isn't that easy. One cannot just cross the River here and go back to the corporeal world."

"You flew me here; you can fly me back."

"If I do, then we may never see each other again!" he pleaded with her. Aidon thought about all the other ways Demeter could separate them forever. He softened his voice. "Your mother would— she already did too much to prevent our union."

"Then why am I even here? Who says we're even married?"

Aidon turned and looked her in the eye. "Your father."

She creased her brow, thinking of Zeus—the distant and powerful god she hadn't seen since she was a young child. "At least take me to my mother so I can tell her what happened."

"Persephone, I cannot—" he stopped and sat next to her again, moving her long hair over one shoulder to stroke her back. He fought to keep calm. "I can't surrender you to Demeter. You're my wife; I need you here."

"I am your prisoner."

He pursed his lips and stood up, walking to the door. "Please get dressed," he said with a backwards glance. "As long as we're both awake, I might as well show you some of your new home. Our home."

Her prison.

Persephone watched him leave and looked back to the folded black fabric on the chair. She slowly wrapped it over her body, then fastened the cloth at her shoulders with the brooches before winding the golden ribbon so it girded her waist and wound under her breasts. She pulled at the fabric, draping it around her slim curves into an elegant chiton. Persephone looked down, sumptuous layers of fine black cloth cascading from her hips to her feet. She decided against wearing the necklace.

Outside in the long hallway, Hecate stood next to the door, her arms folded and an eyebrow raised. Aidon glared back at her. "What?"

"I am not the Oracle at Delphi, Aidon, but next time, perhaps, you will trust that I don't need to be in order to give you a clear foretelling. She was not glad to awaken to me. You were in her heart, and you should have been beside her."

"I had my reasons."

"She is alone here—"

"She has _me_!" He spat at her.

"Now, or soon? Last night, certainly. But not this morning, when she needed you," Hecate said quietly.

"I couldn't stay with her. If I was tempted again so soon, I— I wouldn't have been able to…" Aidon was afraid of what he might have done to her, what little control he would have had if both of them awoke in the same bed. He had barely been able to control himself in her room just now when the bed sheet fell from her breasts and exposed her to him.

Hecate watched each unfamiliar emotion dance across his face. She gave him a pained smile and shook her head. "How little you know about women."

"I think you've made my lack of experience abundantly clear to me over the last two days," he said through his teeth.

"In that way the two of you are well matched. The river before you flows wide and wild. You can swim out alone, and be swept away by its currents," she said looking up at him, "or you can build a boat together."


	10. Chapter 9

Wherever she stepped, the grass withered and died. Hoary frost covered the fields of Nysa, each shocked blade of grass sparkling with ice under the waning full moon high overhead. Cloaked in indigo, her lustrous copper blonde hair newly streaked with brittle strands of white, Demeter carried a torch in her hand and cried out on the wind. Her voice was thin and hoarse, her words torn and scattered by the howling gales that whipped around her as she walked.

"Kore!"

Demeter walked into the valley away from the sacred groves that stood on the hilltops. Rivulets of tears were dried on her face.

"Kore! Where are you?"

She had to be somewhere. Demeter cursed Athena and Artemis, and then cursed herself for trusting Kore with Zeus's virgin daughters. When she had arrived in Nysa at sunset, both had told her they thought Kore was already with Demeter.

They were lying to her. She could feel their lies.

"Kore!" Storm clouds moved across the surface of the moon and the only light Demeter had now was her torch. She looked frantically around her, hoping against hope that her daughter would come running out of the darkness and into her arms.

She tripped forward, falling over freshly uplifted earth. The clouds parted again and Demeter saw a great scar running through a small stone circle filled with trampled flowers. She could see the gaping outline of the earth where it had been pushed apart from below. Her eyes watered as she surveyed the ruined remains of the secret garden her daughter had planted as a young girl. "No…"

Demeter stumbled to the widest part of the crack in the center of Kore's garden and fell to her knees, her eyes brimming with fresh tears. "No! My Kore!"

She beat her fist on the cold ground, as the mortals did when they wanted answers from the dark god. "Hades! Hades Aidoneus, I know you can hear me!"

There was no answer.

"Hades!" she yelled, beating the ground with each word, "Cold-hearted ravager! Return her to me at once!" She opened her bruised fist, clenching the earth, fingers sinking into the upturned dirt. Tears fell down her face again and she shook, sobbing. "Aidon, please! You could have had anyone. She was all I had left…"

She looked skyward and wept, the wind churning around her as dark clouds rolled across the firmament and blotted out the moon. Lightning arced in a fan across the base of a cloud. "Is there nothing you cannot take from me? I've only ever asked you for one thing! And still—"

"We swore…" his voice answered her on a soft rumble of thunder.

Lightning illuminated the field and the trees, their leaves shriveling and falling to the wasted ground. Demeter pulled herself to her feet. "And you swore yourself to me, long ago! How can you answer for that?"

A loud boom split the air as a bolt crashed to the ground, its force nearly knocking Demeter off her feet once more. Zeus stood in its wake, his brilliant white himation wrapped around him as a cloak and hood against the icy wind.

"I couldn't take you as my queen, Demeter. The earth did not yield any help against the Titans, and you did not seek aid outside your province."

"You know I tried," Demeter cried to Zeus. "Gaia would not help me."

"No, indeed. Instead, she spit out Typhoeus, who nearly destroyed us all. The Titanomachy would have been lost if I had taken so weak a consort for my wife."

"It didn't mean you had to stop loving me!"

"We settled this aeons ago, Demeter!" he turned his gaze away from her and spoke under his breath. "You would not want me for a husband as I am now, anyway."

The truth stung her. "Yet you couldn't leave me one thing. Just one reminder of how much you once loved me!"

"Is that what our daughter is to you? A token of my affection, to be preserved forever in sentimental reflection? The toll on her was too great, Demeter. You sought to keep Persephone an ignorant child forever."

"Childlike innocence was her nature—"

"IT WAS THE ONLY NATURE YOU GAVE HER!" he yelled, the sky cracking with blinding light.

Demeter fell to her knees in fear, her head bowed. "Mighty Zeus—"

"Do not interrupt me, woman!" he bellowed, the thunder rolling and echoing through the hills. "You taught my eldest child _nothing_! I did not choose to keep Persephone ignorant to her divine destiny. But because of the love I once bore you, I allowed you more leeway with our child than I allowed the mothers of any of my other children. Including my own wife!"

She was weeping. He had loved her once. Zeus placed a hand on Demeter's shoulder as she knelt, shaking in front of him. He knew her; anger was not the way to appeal to her. Her once golden hair was turned white with grief. The storm calmed.

"Demeter, Persephone is a queen now, and Aidoneus is not an unfitting husband. He rules over the richest part of what we divided at the end of the war."

Demeter raised her head to meet his gaze. Zeus' bold blue eyes softened.

"You must let her go," he said softly, the wind starting calm. "You are the mother of the fertile fields. The earth's people will be your children for all eternity."

Demeter stood up slowly before the king of the gods, her eyes narrowed, her voice iron. "I forsake them. Just as you abandoned your child, I forsake mine."

"You cannot," he growled, thunder rolling once more across the sky.

"Stop me, then," Demeter replied, icily. The wind howled fiercely, turning cold, stripping more leaves from the trees, their dried edges cutting past them. "Return my daughter from the Pit, from the hands that monster, and I will tend the earth. Until that time, your worshippers, and all the worshippers of the Olympians who betrayed me, will feel my wrath."

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

_Hi folks! I realize that this is a shorter chapter than usual. Fear not! More Hades and Persephone in the Underworld coming up! I feel it is of paramount importance to tell Demeter's side of this story. After all, the chief source material we have for this myth is named after Demeter, and the majority of the Homeric Hymn focuses her journey. Could this have been appended to the last chapter? Certainly. Would it have given Demeter her due?__ No._

_And as always, I cannot thank you enough for your continued support and reviews. The fact that some of you would take time out of your busy day to review this story, whether in whole or in part, positive or critical, continues to amaze and humble me. Stay tuned, another chapter of Receiver of Many debuts next Wednesday!_


	11. Chapter 10

The palace was beautiful and cold. Each room was different, displaying one rich color after another. Wide pillars and reliefs decorated each room, quartz giving way to marble, marble giving way to onyx, malachite, and granite. While the memory of Mount Olympus from her one childhood visit was hazy, she most clearly remembered the stark white walls and absence of color. The Palace of Hades was its opposite and spoke to its master's dominion over everything that lay within the earth.

One passage opened to an immense quartz-domed great hall with gold columns. Woven tapestries hung on each wall, their threads telling the story of the war long ago. She ran her hand along one such panel, tracing the outline of a golden chariot wheel, then stepped back to view the entire scene. Hecate stood to one side of her, Aidoneus to the other. He paid no attention to the tapestry, only to the wispy lock of hair on her neck that had escaped her chignon.

A warrior stood on the chariot, holding a raven-crested standard before a host of the underworld. The threads told a tale of frightening creatures— a dark haired woman wrapped in black standing with towering Cyclopes, bronze armored men with black and silver wings hovering in front of dark, unknown creatures, their hulking forms hidden in the shadows. A small girl dressed in white with strawberry blonde hair and a silver half moon hanging on her forehead stood ahead of their ranks, holding up a massive golden helm.

"The Helm of Darkness; our gift to Aidoneus to render him unseen to whomever he chooses. That was me, long ago," Hecate said, pointing at the small girl, "But not _so_ long ago…"

That surprised Persephone. Intuitively, she had guessed from the way Hecate carried herself and spoke that she was ancient. If she were just a child when the Titanomachy happened, it would make her not much older than Persephone. Her eyes followed the upheld helm and looked at the warrior's familiar face. She moved to the widest of the panels. The central scene was wreathed in laurel branches. It showed the gods' victory over Typhoeus, the deadliest of the Titan's allies, before her father cast the demon into the pit of Tartarus. In each corner was a depiction the Olympian alliance. On a bottom corner stood three figures. A man and a woman dressed in white stood on one side of a river, and the helmeted warrior dressed in black stood on the other, his hand outstretched toward the woman's swollen womb. Persephone peered at the woman's face and her copper blonde hair.

She felt Aidon's hand come up to hold her at the small of her back. "Do you recognize them?"

"My mother… the man next to her is my father…"

"And you," he said pointing at young Demeter's belly. "And I."

She felt a chill crawl up her spine. If their betrothal was as old as the alliance of the Olympians, why didn't her mother ever tell her?

"This is where _we_ started, Persephone. And one day," Aidoneus said, pointing at the vast empty wall opposite the entry, "Clotho, Lachesis and Atropos will weave a tapestry that tells our story."

_Clotho, Lachesis and Atropos, _Persephone thought._ The Fates themselves. Mother knew of this; swore it on the Styx. Why didn't she tell me? _The last question repeated over and over again in her head. The walls felt suffocating and close, trapping her. A lump formed in her throat. She turned to Aidoneus, who was still smiling down at her. "Can we go outside? I… I want to see what it looks like beyond the walls."

"You've never lived indoors, have you?"

"No. Even the shrines and temples I rested at were open to the sky."

Aidoneus cursed himself for forgetting where she came from and what she had known all her life. He smiled at her and pushed the stray lock of hair back behind her ear. "It would be my honor to show you."

Hecate followed them down the corridors through the portico to the gardens. Aidoneus opened the door before them and stepped out with Persephone while Hecate hung back. She watched him introduce the young queen to Askalaphos, the pudgy little gardener who knelt to one knee before Persephone touched him on the shoulder. Hecate smiled. Once they had moved on, Hecate walked to where the gardener was pulling at something near the enclosing walls.

"Stop," Hecate said firmly.

"My lady?" Askalaphos pointed at the tiny sapling. "It's just a weed, and it'll become a mighty big one if I don't pull it now."

"Let it become what it will, Askalaphos. If you see more like it, leave them untouched as well," she said. "Don't let _anyone_ touch them."

"Lady Hecate, do you know what they are?"

She remembered the rush of imagery that had come to her yesterday as she had counseled Aidoneus. The flashes had been vivid, but understanding had escaped her. "I do not. But let them grow just the same."

Aidon took Persephone to the edge of the garden, replete with blossom after blossom of asphodel. White poplar trees shaded the boundaries of the garden, set inside the tall stone walls. Gray mist, unmoving, hung high overhead. Beyond the garden, a gray field stretched on to the horizon, cut in half by a thin black river snaking toward them.

Persephone looked out over the field, and thought of her mother kneeling down and ripping these same plants from her shrine. She had known this entire time. When Demeter saw the asphodel growing where her precious Kore had slept, her mother had known who was coming for her. _Why didn't she tell me?_

She reached out and brushed her hand across one of the asphodel buds, expecting it to open for her. The white petals remained closed and motionless. She chewed on her lip and tried again. Still nothing.

Persephone took a couple wide steps to catch up with Aidoneus, who was following the garden path to a large ebony gate. The gate to the garden creaked, and a man clad in black held it open for them. After they passed through, he closed it behind them and limped to the wall to retrieve a crooked herder's staff. A flat expanse of gray earth stretched before them. Here and there, clumps of the white flowers grew out of the rocky soil.

"Menoetes, how are you? How's the leg?" Aidon said with a smile.

"Well, milord; doing better today. But that ram they gave us did a real number on me," he said, smiling with missing teeth at Persephone. "And your ladyship must be…"

"Kor—Persephone," she said. The herdsman bowed to her, favoring his leg as he clung to his staff. She was struck by the fact that Aidon addressed everyone by name— even his gardener and bondsman— called them 'friend' when he spoke to them, and asked after each of them.

"My Queen," Menoetes replied before Aidoneus and Persephone walked on.

The plain itself was as bountiful with the dark stalks of asphodel as the garden. While the garden hosted rows of carefully pruned flowers, these grew wild and unruly, their roots thick and tangled. From the corner of her eye, Persephone saw a translucent white hand reach around a tall stalk, followed by short curls of brown hair, a thick beard, and finally a set of gray eyes peering out at her. She gasped and turned to look, but the ghostly face startled and vanished into a dark mist, disappearing as quickly as it had appeared.

…_the Land of the Dead… _Words from long ago teased her memory _…drink no wine, eat no bread…_

A young woman with pale skin, clad in a long black chiton, her hair bound up with black ribbon, stepped out from between two more stalks, absently twirling a white flower in her hand. Persephone could nearly see through her, and stopped for a moment to watch her. Serenity lit the face of the shade as she pulled the anthers from the bloom. She glanced up at Persephone with a surprised gasp that melted into a soft smile. The woman cast her eyes downward and drew out the skirts of her chiton as she dipped into low curtsy. Rising again, she faded into a smoky mist that wafted back into the stalks of asphodel behind her, the flower falling from her hand to rest on the ground.

_Lord Hades rules the Land of the Dead, where they drink no wine and eat no bread… _When Persephone was a child in Nysa, she and Artemis and all the Olympian children were taught simple rhymes to memorize the names and provinces of the immortals. Before today, those long forgotten lines from her childhood were all she had ever known about her new husband, betrothed to her since she was in Demeter's womb. _Why didn't you tell me?_

Pale shades of mortals clad in black flitted between the plants, appearing one moment, and vanishing into mist the next. Two middle aged women looked at her and whispered, smiling. Both knelt to the ground as Persephone and Aidoneus walked past. An old man leaning against a staff clutched his hand to the front of his black himation and silently mouthed 'at last'. He bowed low before vanishing. Five young women, three carrying newborns and two with empty arms, traipsed across their path. The childless women silently fawned over the shade infants, then disappearing into the flowers as quickly as they appeared.

"Are those mothers who died on the birthing bed?" Persephone asked Aidon, remembering the Eleusinian woman and what her mother had said about the mortal's fate.

"There are too many," he said grimly, "Far too many if you ask me. You'd think the mortals would have solved that by now."

As they walked on through the fields, Persephone gathered a single white flower from each plant she passed and wove them into her hair. Aidon's mouth curved into an amused smile as she did it almost unconsciously, fashioning a beautiful crown from the flowers of his realm. They heard a desperate bleat behind them, and a black lamb bolted past them and away into the fields, becoming a blur of rustling asphodel. "You have sheep? How did they get here?"

"The mortals do not build temples to me, and they rarely pray to me." He placed his arm around her shoulder, trying to match pace with her smaller steps as they walked on. "But when they do, they send me their black sheep, and Menoetes takes care of them. It's why all of the cloth woven in this realm is black."

Persephone looked down at her own gown. "Aidon, would you mind if I changed mine?"

"Of course not," he said, smiling as he heard her say his name. He spread his arm to show her the color of his himation. "I keep mine gray, after all."

Aidon stopped and watched as white framed in dark vermillion swirled across her gown to match the asphodel in her hair and throughout the open field.

"There we are!" Persephone smiled and smoothed down the edges of the chiton before looking up at Aidon, who stood transfixed, his eyes glinting as he shook his head in adoration.

"You're beautiful." Aidon pushed the same wayward lock of hair behind her ear, and brushed his fingers down her neck.

She stared up at him, the nervous smile on her face melting into desire as his fingers trailed slowly over her collarbone. Persephone felt his hand come up to her cheek again as her head tilted up, his face moving toward her.

A great growl broke the silence, followed by loud baying. The ground started to shake. She turned chalk white in horror as a great monster came galloping toward them, its three dark heads baring sharp white teeth.

"Cerberus, DOWN!" Aidon yelled out.

Persephone backed up and felt her feet start to carry her away. She picked up her long skirts and ran as hard as her legs could move, sharp gravel punishing her feet through her sandals. She didn't care.

_One cannot just cross the River here…_

The thin black river. It lay just up ahead. The field was hidden by mist, but now, caverns were visible beyond. Passageways to the upper world. She could run away back home. It was just a little further…

Aidon's back was still to her. He patted one of the heads of the enormous hound. Another head yawned. "There, you see? He's— Persephone?"

He saw her running headlong toward the river Lethe.

"Persephone! Stop! Don't touch the water!"

She looked behind her to see him running after her, yelling for her. The great beast sat in the field behind him, blood red tongues lolling out of its mouths. She ran harder. She was almost to the river. She was going to go home, and be free of this gray waste. Persephone would feel the sun and the wind, see the green fields and her mother again. She had so many questions for her…

It was such a shallow stream; the silted bottom was clearly visible even at the widest part. She could cross it easily. Persephone dipped one foot into the water, then the other and… it was warm. Why was she standing here? She heard someone in the distance saying a name. The water was warm. Why was she here? The water was warm…

Aidon leaned forward and grabbed her wrist, dragging her dead weight from the shallows of the Lethe and back to the shore as her heels scraped across the ground. He knelt with her in his arms. Her body was limp and her eyes stared off into nothing.

"No…" he whispered. "Fates, no… please… Persephone, wake up! Persephone…"

Kore looked out at the gray sky and the endless field. White flowers covered everything. Someone was holding her and shaking her. She heard her other name as though it were coming from the bottom of a well. Kore knew that voice. It was closer to her now. She turned toward him, "Aidon?"

"Persephone…" Relief washed over him. Aidon held her against him, her arms slowly starting to move once more. "Thank the Fates…"

"You… came for me? Oh, I knew you would come!" she said, clumsily throwing her arms around him, still disoriented. He looked down at her, shocked as she continued. "But it's not night time yet."

He gently broke their embrace and looked into her eyes. "Persephone, what do you remember?"

"I wasn't expecting you so soon. I was just about to visit my garden but… this place isn't Nysa," she said, scanning the horizon. Kore saw a palace in the distance, set against a hillside, a waterfall cascading next to it. "Wait— I am with you. Is this where you live?"

Aidoneus relaxed and sat back. She wasn't lost to him; she had just forgotten the past day. He could still save her memories. Relieved, he stroked her hair. "Yes, sweet one. You are with me in my kingdom… Persephone, you—"

"Aidon!" She wrapped her arms around him and kissed his neck. "I thought you were only in my dreams, or I was going mad, but… you're here. You're real… Now I can finally see you in the light and— and you're so handsome…" she said, smoothing a hand across his chest, then looked down where she lay in his arms. "Did you give me this dress?"

"Yes," he said quietly.

Kore brushed her hands over a glittering ruby and garnet narcissus brooch pinned at her shoulder and stared down at the diaphanous fabric clinging to her legs. "Why is it all wet?"

"We need to get away from here. You need to drink from the Mnemosyne pool."

"Where did you go?"

"What?"

"In the grove just now we— I had just…" she blushed and looked back up at him. "You were going to say something to me. At least it sounded like you were going to, but then you went away."

"I'm so sorry," he said, holding her. "Persephone, I wanted so badly to stay with you, but I was forced to come back here. I— there was something that I needed to do immediately."

"So you didn't leave because of me?"

"No, of course not," he kissed her forehead. "But, right now we need to stand up and—"

"Wait before we go, just… stay. Please hold me," Kore said as her hand slipped under the clasp holding up his himation and stroked his collarbone, running her hand over his skin and tracing the edge of his tunic down to his chest. She could feel Aidon's heart beating faster, and ran a finger back up the vein throbbing in his neck. She heard his breath hitching.

He whispered to her. "Please… Persephone—"

She cradled his face in her hand then leaned up and whispered in his ear. "I love you."

A flash of hot, unwanted tears stung his eyes. Aidoneus tried to force them back, his voice choking. "Sweet one… we need to leave this place. Here— stand up with me."

He rose and took her with him. Kore staggered forward, losing her balance, and leaned against his chest as he held her. Aidon braced his feet to hold her up. She peppered any piece of his exposed skin she could find with small kisses, her lips dancing along his neck and collarbone. "You make me feel so alive. I know you feel the same…"

She pressed her thigh into his groin. Aidon cursed himself and the growing hardness she had deliberately sought out as she rubbed against him. Persephone still wobbled on her feet and he supported her and held her close. The heat of her body through their clothes became a delicious torture. Persephone pressed against him again and heard him hiss through his teeth. Her lips brushed past his.

"My husband…"

Aidon captured her lips in a fevered kiss, inhibition dissolved, and heard her moan into his mouth. Her hands traveled down his chest as she fitted herself closer to his body. He embraced her, all sound drowned out by the blood coursing through him.

The cautionary voice that would have stopped him from kissing her was extinguished when her tongue snaked out against his teeth. He opened his mouth and deepened their kiss, pulling her against him. Kore trailed her hands down his stomach, feeling him tense and jump at her touch.

_How terrible could it be if she doesn't remember how you abducted her? She is yours and she wants you. You could have her here and now…_

Her hand reached lower, making him gasp. She whispered against his lips. "Lie with me."

Aidoneus broke off the kiss and stepped away from her, gently prying her off him. "I can't. I just can't…"

"You don't want me?" Kore said, her face falling.

"Sweet one, I do want you. Powerfully. But not here; not like this." He held out his hand to her. "Come with me."

Kore walked after him, her hand in his as they traveled through the silent field, passing one bunch of white flowers after another. They were nearly out of breath when they came to a pool reflecting the gray mist above, its shores ringed in white poplars.

"This may be easier if you're lying down," Aidon said. She blushed and the corner of her mouth twisted up before he realized what he had just said. "No, no… you need to drink the water, and the effects will be very strong and very sudden."

"Why do I need to?"

"Please trust me," Aidoneus said as he dipped the edge of his himation in the cold waters of the Mnemosyne pool. He watched her comply, lying on the flat stone embankment. A soft, expectant smile lit up her face. She closed her eyes. He shook his head at himself. Even now, she thought he was trying to coyly seduce her.

Cradling the wet fabric, he sat behind her. Aidon propped her up in his lap with her head leaned back against his chest and stroked a hand over her forehead to relax her. "Here; just a few drops. I'll be right here with you."

She opened her mouth and felt the cool drops hit the back of her throat, then gasped and coughed. Stars trailed in her vision, then rushed through her in blinding white light. She shook violently, feeling Aidon wrap his arms tightly around her and hold her as still as he could as everything around her disappeared and fell away. She could hear his calm voice echoing, as though it were emanating from the center of her. "I've got you… I've got you. It will be all right. Shhh…"

Her mind wound back to her first memories of her mother. The taste of ambrosia. Olympus. Meeting her father. The fields. The flowers. The harvests. The wedding she witnessed. The man who held her close that night. _ Let me look at you._ The field of Nysa. Aidon. The cypress grove. _Your bridal crown._ The flower in her garden that split the earth. The chariot. The searing heat. The dark of Erebus. Her legs wrapped around his waist. Hades Aidoneus. Caressing her. Kissing her. _I wish there were more time._ The pain. Pleasure. Kore no more. Running into the Lethe. Memories escaping. Holding herself against Aidon. _ I love you…_

Persephone's entire body screamed as she turned to the side, curling her knees to her chest and crumpling against Aidon. He embraced her, his hand smoothing over her arms to comfort her through wrenching sobs. She went limp and shuddered against him at the onslaught of memories. He rocked her from side to side in his embrace, his head leaned down against hers, until she had no tears left.

After she had been silent for a moment, he stood her up carefully and looked into her eyes. "Let's go home."


	12. Chapter 11

Aidon held Persephone about the waist during their walk back to the palace, in case she should falter. He looked down at her tear-stained face. She stared ahead silently, leaning on him periodically to regain her balance. The rush of the falls grew louder, and the gray mist above them began to dim as they approached the gates.

"What happened to me?" she finally asked.

"You walked into the river Lethe. Its waters are drunk by the shades to erase the memories of their lives and the pain of their death when they first arrive. They cross over it and drink it once more when they are reborn to the world of the living."

"And that pond?"

"The Mnemosyne— where all lost memories go."

Persephone puzzled over this for a moment, then gasped and shrank back against Aidoneus as the great black beast from the field loomed into view. He was lying down next to the outer door, a low whine emanating from each of his three heads when he saw her.

"Persephone, it's all right," Aidon said, holding her. "Don't be scared. It's just my dog."

"Your… that's a dog?!"

"Mostly." He lifted his thumb and index finger to his lips and whistled twice. The three heads lifted up. "Cerberus! Cerberus, this is Persephone. Say hello."

Cerberus jumped up and trotted over to them before crouching down. He lowered two heads and raised one, lolling out a panting tongue. The beast's shoulder was as tall as Persephone when he was lying down.

"He won't hurt you," Aidon said, reaching a hand out to pet him. Persephone inched closer and gingerly reached out her hand. It met short wiry fur. She ran her hands through it, then stepped back with a start as the creature rolled over on its back, snorting.

Persephone stepped forward again and reached up to scratch his stomach, watching all three tongues hanging out of his three mouths. His serpentine tail smacked and shook the earth, his hind legs kicking in the air. She looked back to see Aidon crack a wide smile, showing his teeth. The expression looked foreign on him, and she guessed he didn't smile like that very often, if ever.

"I think he likes you," Aidon said. "He won't even do that for me."

Cerberus pricked up his ears. Persephone stepped back as he rolled away from them, then bounded across the garden, clearing the wall as if it weren't even there. Persephone heard him baying and barking. "What is he doing?"

"Cerberus keeps the world of the living separate from the world of the dead. He guards all of us."

"Would he… is he guarding me?"

"Yes, but he would let _you_ pass him. Mortals, living and dead, cannot," he said as they made their way inside. He watched relief wash over her face.

Persephone followed him as they made their way back to her chambers, slowly learning the layout of the palace. The memory of him embracing her at the Lethe played out again in her mind. "Why did you stop?"

"Stop what?"

She sighed and looked down. "You could have… had me… on the banks of the Lethe when I lost my memory. I was willing. Why did you stop?"

Aidoneus opened the door to the amethyst room and took off his sandals before entering her antechamber. "I thought that would be obvious."

"How so?"

"When I am with you, I want it to be with you as you are, and I want you to want me as well. I'll not have you by way of deception. The girl who kissed and embraced me at the Lethe wasn't you, Persephone. Or, rather, it was you before…"

"Before you abducted me," she said, sitting down carefully on a chaise and removing her sandals. "Which begets the question: why did you abduct me in the first place? You knew that I wanted you, that I was going to wait for you."

"You were in danger. I had to act."

"In danger of what?"

Aidon knew this would come. No matter how irrational Demeter had been, her daughter still loved her deeply. If he told Persephone what her mother was about to do to her, she would never believe him. "I can't tell you."

"Oh? Then I suppose you also can't tell me why you said you wished there were more time, before we—"

"To save you I had to…" he stopped and took a long breath. "The threat to you would be ended only after we consummated our marriage."

Persephone looked up at him skeptically, her brow wrinkled. "Aidon, at every turn you've asked me to trust you. How am I supposed to do that, exactly? You didn't tell me your true name or reveal anything about yourself, when you very clearly knew all there was to know about me. You took me from the world above, the only home I've ever known, and you can't even tell me why."

"Persephone, I promise you, all will be revealed in time."

"Revealed in time…" she scoffed. "And you wonder why I cannot trust you? This is why I had to ask why you didn't just take me at the banks of the Lethe when—"

"Because I love you!"

Persephone stared up at him in shock, his face echoing hers. He turned away, wide-eyed, trying to process the words he'd just said. She sat there, her skin prickling as she brought her arms around her body, feeling raw and exposed, remembering when she said those very words to him not an hour ago.

"Because I couldn't do that to you," he continued. "There was a reason and a purpose for everything that happened when I brought you here, and I know that it destroyed your trust in me. Believe me when I say that to save you, that was a price I was willing to pay. I— I don't expect you to love me right away, Persephone. All I ask from you is for a chance to rebuild that trust."

"You're asking for a lot, Aidon," she muttered under her breath.

"I know."

"And even if I do come to trust you… or love you… it doesn't change who we are. Who is to say that I'd want to rule over this place at your side? Mortals pray to my mother and I for fertile fields. For life— not death. I don't belong here."

"Believe it or not, I felt the same way when I first arrived here." Aidon stretched his hand out to her. "Come; I want to show you something."

She took his hand and he helped her to her feet. They walked through the sweeping portico columns onto the terrace. Aidon stood behind her, his hand resting on her arm and a thumb rolling along the skin of her shoulder. She leaned toward him, almost dizzy as she took in the sweeping landscape. The palace sat on a rocky cliffside far above the gray plain. From her left, a vast river wound its way before the palace and outward, meeting an endless black sea. Thin mist hung over the still waters.

From her view on the terrace, the palace was far more massive than she could have guessed from the few rooms Aidoneus and Hecate had shown her. The polished black marble of the palace's outer walls belied the wealth of colorful stone she had already seen inside. Its hundreds of rooms and terraces were connected by winding hallways and staircases between the levels. Several rooms and passageways were embedded in the cliff side, framed by columns carved out of the stone itself. The gardens and the flat plains surrounding the Lethe and Mnemosyne lay behind the palace, high above the river lands. Far below the terrace, a towering poplar tree grew, its shining golden boughs overhanging the entryway to the palace atrium.

"Did you build all this?" she said quietly.

"Yes; bit by bit. I had aeons to do so."

The calm waters of the river shone a blue darker and richer than the sky in the world above. Suddenly, its color changed to a brilliant purple, fading to orange, lighting the land and the mists above in a soft glow. The river shone like a brilliant sunset, its light illuminating the crystal room behind them. Persephone's eyes danced. She hadn't ever seen a sunset this beautiful in all her existence. Overwhelmed, she looked up at Aidon, who smiled back at her.

"That was my reaction the first time I saw the river change from day to night," he said, running his hands along her shoulders and down her back.

"What makes it change color?"

"The River Styx has no bottom. Beyond that, we don't know. The river is far older than you or I; older than Hecate, or Nyx, even. Hecate says it's been here since Chaos gave the cosmos form from the void. It is the mother of all waters above and below the earth."

Persephone stood mesmerized as the river shifted from orange to bright fuchsia. She felt Aidon's hand stroking her back and leaned closer to him. "You didn't feel like you belonged here… A strange thing to say since you rule over everything we're looking at right now."

"I didn't choose to rule here. But I've come to believe that this place chose me. We drew lots. Your father received the skies and rulership over all, Poseidon the seas, and I received the Underworld."

"But you were the eldest…"

"Yes. The lot I received embittered me for aeons, but I eventually grew to love this place. In retrospect, I don't think Zeus' position would have suited me. I was callous and short tempered in earlier days. And I'm afraid of what that would have turned into if I were ruling in his place."

She turned to face him as the light faded from the river, turning it violet as night fell in the Underworld. "This is all very beautiful… but it's not the same as the sky and fields of the living world. I worry that it will take aeons for me to fall in love with the Underworld, just as it did for you."

"I'm fairly certain loneliness prolonged it for me," he said, taking her hands in his. "I'd like to think I could help relieve that for you."

She looked up into his eyes. "You couldn't have been completely alone this whole time. I mean, the men of Olympus all have… companions…"

"I'm not an Olympian. And I knew I would have you beside me one day," he said.

"What about during the war?" she said quietly, moving closer to him.

Aidon brought his hands up to her shoulders once more. A vulnerable smile lit up his eyes. He shook his head slowly.

Persephone's lips parted and she blinked in startled revelation, her body shuddering, pushing her closer to his. "So that means… when you and I were in Erebus…"

"Yes," he whispered softly.

She returned to that moment and the look of shocked pleasure on his face as he trembled and struggled to remain still, trying to soothe and comfort her. Persephone remembered his arm locked around her, supporting her. Her body drew instinctively closer to his and she lightly traced her finger around the edges of his face, brushing across the trimmed beard framing his jaw line.

Aidon kissed the edge of her hand just as he'd done in the dark of Erebus when she'd reached out for him. He cupped her face, and leaned down to meet her waiting lips. She deepened their kiss, first tasting his lips then mating their tongues. Her body melted against his, feeling him arch toward her. Persephone's fingers raked down his back as he encircled her within his arms, pulling her ever closer. He sighed against her soft lips.

"Erebus was unforgettable for me," he said hoarsely. "But that wasn't what I wanted for our first time. I owed you so much more. So much more tenderness, so much more consideration…"

Persephone renewed their kiss as heat filled her body, her breath shuddering through her as he held her. Her knees shook and she felt her heels lift up to stand on tiptoe, leaning against him.

"Show me."

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

___Another chapter of Receiver of Many debuts this coming Wednesday. And again, I can't thank my reviewers and subscribers enough. I'm sure you can see the writing on the wall with how this chapter ended, but just FYI, if overt displays of sensuality disturb you, your discretion is strongly advised with the next chapter. And the first part of the next. You know what? Good Gods; if you got through chapter 7 and are still reading this... enjoy._


	13. Chapter 12

"Show you…?" He drew away breathlessly to look at her face, her lips red from their kiss. "Are you sure?"

"Yes," she said timidly. "I'm sure."

"I don't want to hurt you."

She leaned up to his ear, nervously. "I believe you, Aidon— I want to trust you. I want to try…"

"If you want me to stop at any time—" She put two fingers to his lips. He kissed them, then turned to capture her lips again in a kiss. He cradled her shoulders and held her up to him as she shook in nervousness and delight.

Aidon dropped down and scooped up the back of her knees with his other arm as Persephone folded her body against his chest. He quietly carried her from the balcony portico to the faintly lit amethyst antechamber, following the pathway of lamplight to her room. His eyes locked to hers in a smile as he walked through the ebony doors.

He thought back to just before dawn, when he had carried her sleeping body in this same way to this very room and laid her down on the bed. Aidoneus had spent several minutes untangling the ruined braid that had held her hair through the journey before unwrapping Persephone from his cloak. He'd seen the evidence of what had been done and cursed himself for hurting her. Even then, despite his guilt and exhausted by the journey from the living world, he still painfully wanted her. Aidon had quickly covered her with the bedclothes and left the room, fighting his desires the entire way.

Persephone felt her foot pass gently by one of the gauzy panels draping from the ceiling to the bed— her bed— as Aidon raised a knee for leverage on the soft down mattress and placed Persephone in the center. She sank into the cool sheets and watched him stride across the room.

Aidon closed the great ebony doors with an echoing thud and looked back at her, the room now theirs alone. He walked toward the center of the room and raised his hand above his head, looking at the surrounding lamplight. Slowly closing one finger after another, the lamps dimmed to flickers of orange dancing on the edges of low blue flames. Only a scattered handful of the small lamps held full light. Persephone shuddered at this subtle demonstration of his power, her eyes transfixed as he walked to the side of the bed and sat down.

Persephone stretched out her hand to him and he pressed her fingers to his lips. He kissed down the length of her bare arm and up to one of the brooches at her shoulder. Aidon lay alongside her, propped up on one elbow as he slid out its pin. He looked up into her eyes for approval and was met with lids half closed in passion and her parted lips. Unable to resist, he kissed them again, pulling the brooch away. Her hand danced over his shoulder and neck to the golden band containing his hair.

Tugging on it, she felt his hand come up to help her, unclasping the band and letting it fall. Long curls of black hair fell freely down his back. Aidon took the three large rings off his left hand and carefully set them aside with the clasp and brooch. Supporting her neck, he lifted her and pulled at the ribbon holding her chignon and unwound her hair, spreading the dark russet waves on the pillow behind her.

Persephone watched his eyes dart down to to the skin now exposed by the missing brooch. His hungry gaze caused her to inhale sharply, as he unconsciously licked his lips. His hand traced and molded her breast, followed by his lips. Persephone moaned from deep in her throat and thrashed on the bed.

"Should I keep going?" he whispered against her breast.

She didn't answer him aloud; she only nodded with her eyes shut. He smoothed a hand over her hot skin and the soft fabric until he reached the ribbon girdle that bound her chiton. The tie was easy to undo, but unwrapping it from around her was a little harder. She smiled at him as he fumbled with it, holding her at her lower back. He unwound it in each direction, then pulled it from under her and cast it over the edge of the bed.

His face scanned her body before he looked back at her and moved partially over her, that familiar heat pressing against her hip. His lips met hers in a long kiss as she moved her leg against him, causing him to groan into her mouth. Aidon pulled away the second brooch and set it aside. The chiton was now a long piece of unbound fabric, its shape held aloft by the curves of her body underneath. He sat up and unclasped the fibula that held up his himation, then pulled the heavy fabric from his body, letting it fall softly to the floor. Only the short tunic remained.

Persephone stared down at sculpted calves that had spent aeons walking across stone floors, following their lines up to his thighs, and what barely lay hidden beneath the fabric. Her breath hitched. She blushed and shuddered in anxious heat. Aidon watched as admiration and restlessness played across her face before moving closer to her. He took off his belt and removed the pins that held his tunic in place, letting it loosely fall to his waist and pool around his groin.

She squirmed in pleasure at the sight of him and reached carefully toward his body. Aidon forced himself to stay still as her fingers landed lightly on his chest. She traced each rise and fall then curiously ran her ring finger around a flat nipple. Aidon inhaled sharply through his teeth. She shifted course, trailing her fingers down his stomach, mesmerized. A deep line arched from his waist to his groin over one hip and into the dark curls of hair that started at his navel and thickened as they moved lower. The pronounced hip line met its match from the other side just below the cloth, all paths leading to…

"Not yet," he rasped, picking up her wrist before her fingers drifted any lower. All his energy was focused on fighting the urge to throw the remainders of their clothes to the floor, and wrap Persephone's legs around his waist. If she explored any further, it would end him.

Instead, he set her arm gently down at her side again and pulled slowly at the fabric still covering her. His lips touched her neck and she moved her hand up to his shoulder, gripping at his skin.

Aidon stopped. "Is this still what you want?"

"Yes…" She looked into his eyes.

Persephone helped him, raising her hips off the bed as he moved the fabric out from under her. She felt it brush over her breast as more of her flesh was revealed to him. Aidon sat up and pushed the remains of Persephone's chiton over the side of the bed before turning back to her.

He paused there, taking in the swell of her breasts from the underside, the curve of her stomach, the juncture of her thighs, her legs, her ankles, each individual toe. He pulled away the last of the cloth gathered around his waist and heard her shift and hold her breath.

Persephone took in the full sight of him for the first time. In their dream, her view of his most intimate parts had been obscured by their bodies, and in Erebus, the darkness had covered him completely. She had only felt, not seen him, until now. She felt her skin flush hot, and her breath grew short.

"Are you alright?" Aidon startled her. He leaned down to her again and ran a hand down her shoulder, feeling her shake.

"It's just—" She licked her dry lips. "I'm afraid it will hurt again."

He cupped her face and kissed her forehead. "We can stop anytime you want. Say the word and I'll stop right now."

Persephone looked into his eyes, burning yet sincere, as he stroked her cheek. He meant every word of what he said. "I don't want to stop— not now. Not yet. But if I do… do you promise?"

"I promise."

She leaned into Aidon and felt him press against her. He shuddered at the contact. His lips found hers again as they held each other skin on skin, their hands moving and exploring, running across each angle and curve.

Persephone's arm slid under his waist and held Aidon against her. He kissed everywhere he could reach, inflaming her, then slowly moved his hand up her thigh. Her legs wriggled open at his touch, her body seeking him of its own volition. His hand trailed along white-hot skin, her knees shaking as he drew closer.

When when he neared the apex of her thighs he looked back up at Persephone, watching as desire played across her face. The coil tightened in her stomach as he touched her core. Persephone pulled him in for a kiss. Fire shot through her as she turned her entire body toward him, aching for him, needing to feel him closer. She brought a leg over his hips, opening herself to his touch.

Aidon shifted her back down to the bed underneath him and lay astride her. He balanced himself above her on his elbows and knees, his lips locked with hers. He rose up and Persephone looked up into his eyes, feeling the heat of his arousal hard against her stomach. He watched her eyes trail down between their bodies. She trembled.

"If you're afraid—"

"I'm not." She looked up at him, his hand smoothing hair back from her forehead. "I'm not," she whispered again. She ached indescribably, needing him closer to her. She sighed under her breath. "I want you, Aidon."

Relief washed over him as he moved his body back, and felt her raise her legs to the side of his hips. He kissed her neck and came up to her ear, returning her gentle susurrations. "I'll go slowly. But if it hurts at all for you, Persephone, I'll stop. I promise."

She ran her fingers through the curls at the nape of his neck and breathed shallowly through her nose, tensing as Aidon moved his hand between them. Persephone bit her lip, waiting. He drew back for a moment. Instead of immediately joining with her, he traced himself along the folds of her labia with exquisite care, feeling her relax against him one more.

For Aidon this was slowly becoming torture. When he brushed once more against the center of her desire, she moaned and pressed her fingers harder into his shoulder blades. Finally, shaking with the primal need to bury himself within her, he kissed her jaw line, "Persephone…"

"Aidon, please…" she brought her legs up higher and locked them around his waist, opening to him. He moved slowly, finally taking his hand away when he knew his own motions could carry him forward. He looked into her eyes, searching for what she felt as he entered her.

When she cried out sharply in discomfort, he stopped and ran a trembling hand along her cheek. "Did I hurt you?"

"Only for a moment," she whispered back to him, smiling up at his worried face.

"Do you want me to stop?" he said, drawing back.

"No! No. Please…" She closed her legs around his waist, pushing her hips forward to reclaim what he'd withdrawn. "I need you."

He closed his eyes as they rolled back in pleasure at her words and movements, feeling her inch herself forward, enveloping him. It was too much. Aidon grasped her thigh to steady her and moved forward again.

Her world started tipping back. The center of their universe became where he carefully joined her and Persephone felt her head spinning in pleasure. The only sound she could hear was her heart beating out of her chest and his ragged breathing. Persephone let out a short cry and felt Aidon stop again before he realized that it was from pleasure, not pain. He kissed her open mouth on each of her lips before capturing them and tasting her. When his hips finally lowered fully into hers, he held there, unmoving.

Velvet heat closed in around him as he waited for Persephone to open her eyes. When she trailed a foot along the curve of his spine, when she dragged her fingernails across his shoulders, when she simply breathed, she felt him within her body. When she opened her eyes to him, Persephone felt Aidon within her soul.

He withdrew slowly and she whimpered, his absence aching. When he pushed forward again, she tightened her grip on his body, welcoming him back with a cry of pleasure. He pulled back again and looked down the delicately curved length of her shuddering body to where they were joined.

Aidoneus cradled her head forward, his hand tangling in her hair, wanting her to see their flesh together as one. Persephone's eyes dizzily trailed down the clenched muscles of his stomach and drew in a breath. She looked back up at his straining face, the space between their bodies disappearing as his hips met her soft thighs. He shook and smiled down at her, pleasure written across her face, the pain now only a memory.

He moved up on his elbows once again and cradled her back and neck, embracing her as they moved in a slow rhythm, quickening in response to her need. Her stomach and thighs, the palms of her hands, the tips of her breasts and the soles of her feet began to spasm once more, edging her ever closer to that glorious crest. She reached down to his waist and pressed her hands into the hard curves of his hips.

The waves that rolled through her started to echo within him. Her arms and legs shook as she brought her hands up to his shoulders again. He wanted to arrive there with her. "Persephone," he whispered into her ear. "My sweet wife… just let go…"

Persephone rested her forehead on his shoulder, her body curling forward to his. She cried out, hearing her voice only distantly shouting his name as he started to quake. Her back arched and her eyes squeezed shut, Persephone held fast to him. Aidon answered her cries with a shout that echoed off the marble walls.

The swell rising through his body held him above her before he shook, collapsing into her arms. Their breathing was erratic, their limbs tangled and their bodies covered in a sheen of sweat. Persephone felt him breathing hot on her neck as a last moan shuddered through him.

Her chest rose toward his, their breathing paced and slowing in unison. Their bodies remained otherwise motionless. Any movement was too much. Persephone opened her eyes. Her fingers were still twined and tangled in the curls of his hair as he lay still inside her.

She felt him shift and met his eyes. Aidon. Her husband. Her lover. His eyes scanned her face as he brushed a lock of her hair from her neck that had been trapped there by friction and the heat of their bodies. Hades Aidoneus. God of the Underworld and Lord of the Dead, who she had just given herself to willingly and completely. Her abductor. Her jailor. Persephone had just proved herself his eager captive.

He watched her face fade from bliss and tenderness to fear and shame as she turned away from him, her eyes watering. Aidon pulled away from her in confusion and saw her roll onto her side, her legs curling into fetal position. She shook, tears streaming under her eyes and over the bridge of her nose to land on the pillow. He sat on the opposite side staring despondently at the small heaps of their scattered clothes next to the bed.

_She is not to marry. And certainly not to someone as hard hearted as you._

Demeter's words from long ago rang through him. Why else would she shrink away from him in revulsion? He looked back at her shaking body and pulled the bedclothes over her, feeling her tremble as his hand smoothed the covers down over her shoulder.

Persephone listened to the swish of fabric as he wound his himation around his waist and over his shoulder. Aidon gathered his tunic and scattered effects. _Please stay._ The words caught in her throat and she choked back tears. Hades had taken her. Kore, the maiden of the flowers. Persephone, maiden no more. Cypress, his clean and spicy scent, still clung to her and she could feel their warmth radiating from the sheets. This was how he had wanted to make love to her before circumstances forced him in Erebus. Aidon had held her, making every moment careful and intimate, focusing on her pleasure as he relished in her and guided her. _My sweet wife…_

"Aidon?"

He stopped at the door. "Yes?"

"I'm sorry," her voice cracked.

"You don't need to apologize, Persephone."

"It's just— I know what you said you felt for me, and I—" The lump grew impossibly large in her throat.

"I didn't expect to win you over in one night, sweet one." But Aidon had, hope against hope. He had seen the look in her eyes as they stood on the balcony, had felt her absolute trust in him as they lay together, had felt her body keening for him, her voice crying out for him.

"I— I need time, Aidon."

"I know." Faint hope flickered in his eyes. "But tonight, just rest. I've put you through enough as it is."

The door creaked again. "Aidon?"

He turned back to her.

"Can you hold me?"

Aidon's eyes widened in shock at her request. He gently shut the door. Moving cautiously toward the bed, he unwound the fabric from around his shoulders and let it pool at his feet, naked before her once more. With a flex of his fingers, Aidon extinguished the last light of the oil lamps. Persephone moved over in bed as she felt his weight press into the mattress in the dark. He lifted the sheets and slid back under them with her, the bed already warm.

Her skin was soft against him, and her thighs shifted as he settled in behind her. Aidon curved around her body and stretched an arm out underneath her pillow to support her head. He ran his hand down her outstretched arm then twined his fingers over hers. With that, Hades and Persephone fell into fitful sleep.

_The shoots hardened to the air. Their new skin would protect them— strengthen them. Hard branches drooped under the weight of larger leaves, testing and hurting them as they rose free of the cold earth. Rising at last over the gray flowers, they could now see each other for what they were._


	14. Chapter 13

"You're wrong!" the flaxen-haired girl said. "I know all about the act of love."

She was met with a sardonic laugh, tenor and melodic, coming from behind her as a hand brushed over her exposed breast. Its owner circled her and spun around, a chlamys draped across one shoulder, his only garment. "Oh, Elektra…"

"Voleta," she pouted.

"Voleta. My apologies," he said, pulling the fibula pin from a brooch with a stylized _theta_ etched on its surface. It clanged like a bell when it hit the floor. The black fabric followed it, slinking off his shoulders to reveal his pale, smooth frame. His black hair was cropped short and piercing silver eyes stared out of a flawless, angelic face. "You know nothing about the act, other than which parts fit together. It's why you came to me so readily. You're curious."

"But, the Great Lady—"

"Yes, yes… Hecate sent you to some village or another for the great rite of _hieros gamos_," he finished for her. "And then some noble youth climbed up your body and squirted inside you to bless the planting of the fields, or founding of a city, or what have you…"

Voleta gaped up at him, shocked at his flippancy. He ignored her and continued.

"And because of this, you think you know anything about the act of love," his smiling face came within inches of hers. He slid a finger under her chin and pushed up. "The first thing I'm going to teach you is to never open your mouth like that unless you intend to use it."

"I came to you because I saw you and wanted you," she said indignantly. "Our Lady said that after the rites we could have as many men as we like as long as we are mutually fulfilled."

He laughed again. "And do you have the faintest idea what she was talking about?"

Voleta bit her lip.

"Well despite your ignorance, your Lady is at least right about that," he said, pushing Voleta back against the sheets with a finger, "and I intend to make good on it. Allow me to educate you."

"And what is it about you that makes you such an expert on something meant to create life, anyway? You're—"

Voleta's breath hitched as the beat of large, black-plumed wings guttered the flames of the oil lamps and fanned her hot skin. She saw them in full for the first time as he stretched them, their span spreading into the darkness of his room, eclipsing the faint light. Voleta suddenly felt very small.

She wavered again. "Y-you're…"

"Death," Thanatos finished for her. "Very clever. But consider this…"

He folded his wings back and knelt in front of her. Thanatos kissed her on her right foot, then her left.

"There isn't anyone I cannot have, the old, the young, maiden or youth…"

He placed a kiss on her right knee, then her left.

"…because in the end, I take them all."

He planted a kiss on her womb and slowly, deliberately stroked into her, curling a finger and beckoning her in pleasure. Voleta wriggled on the bed, her breath catching.

"The occasional young man is quite fine, but I prefer the maiden when I come for her."

He placed a kiss on her right breast. Thanatos added another long finger and curled it upward, brushing a spot she didn't even know she had. Voleta gasped as he smiled up at her.

"Sometimes, she pleads to go; other times, she pleads to stay. But out of the scores I send every day to the shores of the river …"

He kissed Voleta's left breast. His thumb rocked back and forth across her flesh. He watched intently until her breath became ragged and her eyes glazed over.

"…there is at least one…"

He pecked a kiss on her lips.

"…who pleads for me."

Thanatos hovered above her, feeling life pulse and writhe underneath him. Voleta screamed out loud, her back arching and falling as she gripped at the bed sheets. The smirk never left his face and he stood up once she stilled to fold his arms across his chest and admire his handiwork.

Voleta opened her violet eyes wide and stared up at him. "What was… How did you—"

"Make you come? That's my trade secret. Tell me— that sniveling mortal boy who took you maidenhead— did he do that for you?"

"No," she panted. "Wait— was that the Fivefold Kiss?!"

He smiled at her, showing all his teeth. "You _are_ a clever girl! And yes, it was. I figured I'd start with something you were familiar with before moving on."

"You profaned it!"

"I enhanced it," he shrugged and knelt between her thighs. Thanatos smiled up at her and licked his lips. "Which brings us to our next exercise…"

* * *

Aidoneus knew as soon as he rounded the corner to the hallway outside Thanatos' apartment that Death was entertaining a guest. The sounds of female pleasure, half-hearted protestations, and full-throated exclamations were barely muffled by the heavy ebony door. Every so often, the noises were interrupted by soft cajoling and hard, lascivious words from the Minister of Death. Aidoneus slowed his pace.

He had passed by this room under these circumstances many times over the aeons and had kept walking, bitten his tongue, and rarely voiced his opinion of his friend's private life. As long as he did his job, and didn't flagrantly disregard the rules or create discord, Aidon figured that Thanatos could be left to his own vices.

But today the sounds echoing from his Minister's chambers made his blood burn. He had known those pleasures, or at least had a taste of them. He thought about his wife, the very subject he'd come to discuss, and wavered next to the door, wondering if he should reconsider. The crescendo of noise on the other side only heightened his frustrations. _Enough of this_, he thought. He gave a slight knock against the frame.

Nothing.

Impatient, Aidoneus clenched his jaw and rapped loudly on the door.

"_Just a minute_!" Thanatos yelled from the other side.

Arms folded and eyes trained down the hall instead of on the interplay of shadows flickering from under the door, Aidon tried to ignore the sounds of them in extremis. Near silence followed. Still, the door remained shut.

On the other side, Thanatos drew himself away from Voleta with a long, hard exhale and staggered a few steps backward, stopping with his hand on his knees, the muscles of his stomach clenching as his wings curved over his shoulders.

"Thanat—"

He hushed her with a glare, holding a finger outstretched toward her. Thanatos gasped for breath and turned his head toward the door. "Who is it?"

"Open the door."

Thanatos spun back toward Voleta and smacked her lightly on the rump. "Get up."

"But—"

"Do you have any idea who I'm making wait outside that door right now?" he whispered to her through his teeth. "Lord Hades Aidoneus."

Her eyes grew as wide as the full moon as she scrambled off the bed, grabbing her wrinkled chiton from the floor and wrapping it around her. Thanatos casually slung his chlamys over his shoulder again, pinning it in place.

The door finally opened. Aidoneus watched a blonde woman dart past, barely nodding her head to him, a quick 'milord' escaping her lips as she ran. He heard her bare feet pad down the stone hallway as he entered his minister's chamber. Aidoneus closed the door behind him, wrinkling his nose at the heavy smell of sex hanging in the air.

"My lord," Thanatos said with a slight bow, adjusting the draped fabric under the base of his wings. "I would apologize—"

"I don't expect you to," he said. Thanatos lit a censer next to his bed and sat down to catch his breath. The smell of pennyroyal and wormwood started to cover the scent of the Minister of Death's latest conquest. "Who was she?"

Thanatos looked at the ceiling, mouthing names as he thought back. _Phaedra, Elektra, Voleta…_ "Voleta," he finally said.

"One of Hecate's Lampades nymphs?"

"I think so," he said with a shrug.

"Thanatos, please tell me she wasn't a new initiate. That you know a little more about her than barely remembering her first name," Aidoneus said as he looked for a place to sit. He squinted at the surface of a chair near the bed, making sure it was clean before he leaned back into it.

"I'm not an idiot," he laughed. "The only ones I take to my bed have already undergone the _hieros gamos_. The white witch would make my cock disappear if I touched any of her virgin initiates."

"Hecate's none too happy with you having them once they return, either."

"They come to me willingly, and she's none too happy with me in the first place, whether I fuck them or not." He leaned back with a smile and a sigh. "I swear by the Fates, Aidon, I found this one already standing in my chambers when I got back. It was almost adorable how she tried to seduce me. She just looked at me and pulled the pins on her chiton before I even shut the door," he guffawed, then grew quiet, watching Aidon blush. Thanatos leaned in closer to him. "Now _that's_ new!"

"What is?"

"In all the aeons I have known you, the only reaction you ever had to hearing about the women I've fucked has been disapproval."

"It still is," he said, cocking an eyebrow at his minister's vulgarity.

"Yes, but there's more now! Your chief concern was always about how my behavior might cause problems with Hecate. I couldn't even get you to blink when I talked about sex. But now," he said with a smile, "our new little queen has changed you."

Aidon's lips thinned and he looked at the ground. "I suppose."

"And that's not a bad thing." Thanatos grew serious, the constant smile finally leaving his face. "I take it you didn't come here to talk about Voleta or Hecate?"

Aidoneus shut his eyes. Every day at dusk he had come to Persephone as she looked out over the shifting colors of the river. Each time, he would take her to bed, reenacting their night three weeks ago. When he made love to her, he would extinguish the lights and just feel the press of hot skin, listen to her ragged breathing and sharp cries of pleasure as she held him ever closer. Tangled together in the dark of her room, he could feel passion and joy. But as soon as their embrace ended, her fear and sadness would return with a shiver. When it was over, he knew it wasn't love she felt for him— just a potent mix of desire and fear. With the lamps doused, at least he couldn't look into her eyes and know it.

"Aidon?" Thanatos said, watching sadness wash across his friend's face.

"It's becoming unbearable," he started slowly. "I love her."

Thanatos snorted and shook his head. "If you're coming to me for advice on love, I'm the wrong person to give it."

"My experience with women begins and ends with her. Yours, however— Honestly, Thanatos, how many have you had?"

"Gods, I don't know. How many days has it been since Prometheus handed fire to those fools?"

"You mean to tell me that you've been with one woman each day since…"

"At least, if I can help it; and you can't blame me for trying! My job isn't exactly pleasant, you know. I need diversions, and you don't allow wine down here. Or ergot _kykeon_— a barley mead hallucination would do me good, just once in awhile." Thanatos cleared his throat. "So when someone sees through that hideous shell I become in the mortal world, and wants me all the same, I give them what they want. It's only fair if it's someone's last request. Wouldn't you agree?"

Aidon narrowed his eyes. "No, I wouldn't. These women throw themselves at you thinking that you'll find it in your heart to save them from… you."

"Entirely untrue. I tell each of them plainly what is about to happen to them and why I'm there. They know there's no going back; I only show them how sweet death can be," he smiled.

"All the same, I don't understand the appeal. I thought you would have gotten bored with it and settled down by now."

Thanatos laughed. "You're talking to _me_, remember? It's hard to settle down when you make a habit of never fucking a girl twice. Believe me, I only had to make that mistake with the one."

"Dare I ask who?"

"Eris," he muttered.

Aidon curled his lip. "Eris?!"

"Multiple times. Sometimes I still— I can't help myself. She's just…" he looked off into the distance and whistled low, running his hand through his hair. "Look— crazy women make for an amazing lay."

"I wouldn't know."

"My dalliances aren't what you came to talk about, in any event," Thanatos said, "This is supposed to be about you. Now, my king, what advice could you want from your humble minister on matters of love, knowing full well that I'm only interested in love's counterpart?"

He was silent for a moment, deciding whether or not this was even a good idea. Thanatos waited.

"Sex itself is hardly a problem for us," he said quietly.

"Really!" Thanatos smiled and leaned forward, his wings relaxing and spreading out behind him. With a glare from Hades they snapped back. "I mean no disrespect to our queen, of course. I'm just glad for you."

"This isn't easy for me to speak about," he said, looking away.

"The door is shut, and nothing will travel beyond it. You can speak plainly to me, Aidon," he said seriously, the smile gone from his face.

Aidoneus squeezed his temples with his fingers and began again. "That part of our lives is… it's wonderful. Incredible, really. But it's all we have right now."

"Then keep it as it is," he said with a shrug. "So many men would dream to have even that."

"But that's not what I want. I can't keep doing this in perpetuity."

"So what is it that you want from her?"

"I want her to want me to be more than just her lover." Aidoneus paused, frowning. "I want to be her husband. I want her to be my wife; my queen."

"Well, sorry to say, you can't will her to love you, or make her love you with what both of you are doing right now."

Hades looked down and ran his hand back through his hair once more.

"Aidon, it's not as dire as you seem to think."

"No?" he snapped. "I know I can't make her love me, or trust me, but Persephone can't bring herself to do either." He stood up and turned toward the door, muttering to himself. "This is foolish. I should just take your advice, and enjoy the way things are now. She is my consort; she's ready and willing for me when I go to her, and I should just be content with that."

"Wait," Thanatos said. "Stay. You just said 'trust'. How much trust do you put in _her_, exactly?"

"I don't understand."

"Well, from what I hear, our little queen has been wandering in circles around familiar parts of the palace for the last few weeks, either with Hecate, or to the garden with Askalaphos and Cerberus. Where were you?"

"This realm doesn't run itself—"

"Except for at night when you're with her, you mean."

"What is your point, Thanatos?" he bristled.

"That it's hardly a question of her trusting you. How much do you trust her? How much of our world has she seen?"

Aidon sat down again. "The last time I took her anywhere, she ran away from me and straight into the Lethe. I almost lost her."

"She'd only been here for a matter of hours, and from what I heard from Menoetes, your big black three-headed puppy gave her a bit of a scare."

"I keep her in the palace to protect her."

"Like Demeter did?"

Aidoneus glared at him.

Thanatos stood firm. "Put some trust in her, Aidon."

"How?"

"I don't know. I'm sure the situation will arise if you actually spend time with her outside her bedroom."

Aidon sat there, absorbing his friend's advice. For all Persephone knew, traveling beyond the palace would bring the same pain she had experienced at the Lethe.

_I just worry that it will take the same aeons for me to fall in love with the Underworld as it did for you…_

If she was ever going to love him, she would also have to love the land he ruled— the place that bore his very name in the world above. "I'll speak with Charon. The best views of our realm are from the Styx."

"There's a start. Now, as to the _real_ reason you came here…"

"What do you mean?"

"Oh, please, Aidoneus, if you wanted to talk about women and love you could have gone to Mother Nyx or even Hermes when he comes down here."

Color started to rise into his cheeks. "My biggest concern was discussed. Anything else is… incidental."

"Hardly; you said so yourself. 'How many women have I had?' The reason you came to me was to talk about how you can better please your queen."

Aidon felt heat rush to his face and saw a smile curl his friend's lips again. "Well—"

"I thought so," Thanatos said, leaning back and clearing his throat. "Lesson the first: in every way imaginable, know every inch of each other…"

* * *

**Author's Note:**

_Helloooooo Thanatos... _

_As a special treat for my readers on this site, please visit my profile page — where in you'll find a link to the Pinterest board for "Receiver of Many". There, I have collected a lot of the visual and figurative inspiration I've used for the characters, settings and props._

_Thank you all so much for following, reading and reviewing this story. I continue to be blown away by the support I've gotten._


	15. Chapter 14

She looked different. Persephone stood in front of the polished hematite mirror, turning this way and that, examining her figure under the long chiton in the glow of the oil lamps. Her hair was darker; thicker. She could dismiss that change— it may have been the darkness of the mirror's reflection itself. Her hips flared out more than before. She rounded her hands over her breasts. That definitely wasn't from the reflection. Her cheekbones were more pronounced. Persephone sucked in her cheeks, rounded and girlish three weeks ago, and saw the face of a woman staring back at her.

The changes were more noticeable every passing day. After wandering into the Lethe, she had slept on and off for almost three days, according to Aidoneus and Hecate. It took a great deal of time to adjust to the opposite schedule of this world. Day was night, and night was day.

Persephone would stand at the balcony when the river Styx started to change color at dusk, her knees shaking, knowing that Aidon would come to her. As the river darkened, she could feel his presence beside her. His arms would wrap around her waist as they stood silently, watching the last light of the daytime dance across the water. His hands would caress her skin, running across her arms and her hips, curving over her breasts and thighs until her body ached with need and she turned to kiss him. Each night he would carry her into her room as he had after they first watched the sun set three weeks ago.

Before he extinguished all light in her room, she would watch his face as long as the flicker of the lamps allowed, his eyes filled with a longing that went beyond desire and pleasure. Persephone would surrender to him in a tangle of embracing limbs, alive, afraid, reaching, and fulfilled, then listen to his breathing as he held her to his chest until she fell asleep.

_I love you…_ She had said it first. She had lost hold of her memories for the moment, but she had said it just the same. And yet she couldn't bring herself to say it again to Aidoneus.

Last night, strange dreams of winding branches, growing leaves, and buds preparing to blossom alternated with visions of her home in Eleusis and nightmares of a widening maw of dark fire. She had cried out in her sleep and jolted awake to feel him rocking her back and forth, stroking her forehead. He whispered to her, tender words in the dark to soothe her back to sleep. It was only once she closed her eyes again and started drifting off that he whispered to her that he loved her. But when first light woke her that morning, just as it had every morning, he was already gone. She wanted him to stay, but how could she ask? The next time she saw him it would be for the nearly silent ritual they played out every night in her bed.

Hecate accompanied her each day. She toured the palace and gardens with Persephone, explaining the myriad complex rules of the underworld by way of hints and riddles. During those first few days walking with Hecate, Persephone thought her mind was playing tricks with her, echoing the cryptic words of the selenite-crowned goddess. But Hecate had in fact aged rapidly before her very eyes, her brilliant red hair streaking with more and more silver every day. Her pale skin grew wrinkled and fragile. Their walks grew shorter and slower. Three days ago, she had stopped visiting Persephone entirely.

When she asked Askalaphos the gardener what had happened, he simply shrugged. "She just does that," he said, then returned to carefully pruning the poplar trees. For weeks Persephone had tried with all her might to make a flower, any flower, grow here. Even the flowers already rooted in the ground wouldn't respond to her. She'd spent several days in a row trying to open just one asphodel before eventually giving up, deciding that these flowers were as dead as everything else here, and that the life-giving powers she had spent aeons perfecting in the world above had no effect on them. Askalaphos wasn't any help there either, shrugging once more and telling Persephone that making the flowers grow down here was his job.

When he wasn't busy harassing the black lambs and chasing down wandering souls, Cerberus had taken to trotting up to Persephone as soon as she reached the portico. Persephone had nearly trained him out of bothering Menoetes' herd by asking Askalaphos to fashion her a large stick out of one of the smaller poplar branches. Cerberus had gone tearing after it each time, tongues lolling out of his three mouths. He would dutifully bring it back to her each time and his long tail would wag and inevitably crush the asphodel in the garden, to Askalaphos' chagrin, until she threw it again. The herd of black sheep grew every day. Menoetes himself said that he'd never seen so many offerings from the world above as he'd seen in the last two weeks.

A rustle of cloth interrupted her thoughts.

"My queen?" a small voice said from the doorway.

Persephone startled and turned around to see a young girl with strawberry blonde hair staring back at her. Her hair was crowned in selenite beads and her white peplos draped and gathered over her hips and hung to the floor, worn as if she were an adult. A half moon hung on her forehead.

"H-Hecate? Is that you?"

"Yes, it's me! It's very nice to see you again, Persephone," she said in a very mature but tiny voice as she curtsied.

"What happened to you?!"

"Didn't Aidon tell you?"

"Tell me what?"

In what was a very girlish way to react, Hecate rolled her eyes and sighed before shaking her head and grumbling to herself. "Aeons and aeons… I should know better by now."

She walked over to where Persephone stood and cocked her head to the side. The young queen's eyes were wide with wonder, her mouth dry.

"Ooh, look at you! You're like a tree showing its first full leaves! And your hair got darker. It's very pretty on you!"

"Thank you. I'm still not sure what that means for me exactly…" Persephone said trailed off. She was still trying to absorb that this little girl and the ancient wise woman who had guided her through the Palace of Hades were the same person.

"Oh! Yes, I'm younger now…" Hecate said, remembering where she left off. "See, your parents are Olympians, so you won't ever die, as long as there are mortals who worship you." She paused and examined Persephone, wrinkling her brow. "Well, it's like that up above, but now it's different for you down here. Chthonia is changing you into the goddess you were born to be. Since you're now queen here, you won't need the worship of mortals as much any more."

"That I was born to be…" she thought about her younger cousins, Artemis and Athena, Hermes and Ares, who all looked older than her though they were born later. This was who she was to become. But what was that, exactly?

"I don't need worshippers to live forever either: I'm connected to the moon. That's because I'm even older than the mortals," Hecate continued with a giggle. "Up in the world above, the moon is small, but it's getting bigger. And when it is, so am I! I'm a woman when it's full, and then a wrinkly old crone when it's disappearing again. And oh, you should see it here when it's full! Its light shines here at night through the Styx…"

"You're older than the mortals… are you not an Olympian?"

"Oh, no; I'm much older than that. I'm a Titan."

Persephone recoiled briefly and composed herself. Titans were the monsters her mother told her stories about as a little girl.

"It's okay," Hecate said with a laugh, reading her thoughts, "My mother told me all kinds of stories about the Protogenoi just like that. Oops! Sorry. I forgot I'm not supposed to read your mind anymore."

"Don't worry, Hecate, it's— Who are the Protogenoi?"

The girl rolled her eyes again. "Ugh, Aidoneus tells you even less than Demeter," she whined. "Chaos, Hemera, Gaia, Ouranos— my mother had the worst stories _imaginable_ about him— You won't meet them. But Nyx and her sons live here. She's the goddess of the night. And Charon is the boatman, and Morpheus is the king of dreams, and there's Hypnos, who rules over sleep." Hecate paused to frown pointedly. "And Thanatos looks like bones and makes people dead."

"What's the matter with him?" Persephone asked.

Hecate wrinkled her nose. "Nothing. We... don't get along."

She could feel Aidoneus approaching her room. Warmth washed over Persephone and her skin prickled. Her entire body pulled in the direction of the hallway beyond as he came ever closer.

"Persephone?" his voice echoed through the amethyst antechamber outside her room.

She twirled a lock of hair and fussed with the crown of asphodel she had made that morning before turning around to see him slowly approaching the door.

"May I come in?"

"Of course," she said. She thought it strange that he should ask since only last night they were tangled together in the sheets of her bed. Persephone glanced at the rumpled sheets and felt heat rush to her face.

Hecate failed to suppress a smile as she slid off the edge of the bed and walked toward the door. "Well… I have to go now. If you need me, my Queen…"

"Thank you," Persephone said, nodding back at Hecate.

The small girl strode regally out of the room, leaving her alone with Aidon. He watched her eye the bed nervously once more and push a loose lock of hair behind her ear, her arms folded across her chest. Aidoneus shook his head. This was the only reason she thought he would ever visit her. Then again, it was the only reason he'd ever given her.

Aidon cleared his throat. "I was wondering if you would like to come with me today."

A smile barely teased the corners of her mouth. "Where are we going?"

* * *

**Author's Note:** _Happy (or sorrowful, depending on your perspective) Spring Equinox! Over the course of this past month, I've been able to witness this awe inspiring gift of white and yellow narcissus flowers lining my commute to work every day. I wish I could take pictures, but roaring down the freeway and trying to take pictures out your side window is a no-no._

_Yes, this was a shorter, more introspective chapter. I considered combining it with the one coming up, but it would have made the next one TWICE as long as the preceding chapter and I'd prefer the next bit to stand on its own. And hey— I've got to pace my chapter releases. Mostly because I'm getting married in six months _:D _, and would like to keep you all entertained with consistent updates and no hiatus announcements. Thank you for all your kind words and reviews and come back next week to see what Hades has planned for their day out..._


	16. Chapter 15

Aidoneus and Persephone took the winding staircases down to the atrium entrance of the palace. Persephone lingered for a moment to look up at the dizzying heights of the great golden poplar tree that overhung the entryway before they made their way down the path to the river's edge. Outside, shades flitted about, appearing from and dissipating back into the asphodel as Persephone walked at his side. Aidon looked to their left and held her back for a moment by the shoulder. A young girl in a tiny black chiton ran out and toddled across their path with a flower in her hand, giggling to herself without making a sound before vanishing into mist within the asphodel. Persephone smiled in the direction of the little shade, and realized that Aidoneus could hear her coming before she ran across their pathway.

The river Styx looked far more vast once Persephone was standing next to it. Stalks of asphodel grew even higher here; a few were taller than her. The still water seemed to stretch on endlessly, the far shore lost in mist. The pathway from the palace atrium to the river itself was lined with carefully clipped cypress trees— no doubt the work of Askalaphos. They were a far cry from the unruly, gnarled trees in the grove at Nysa.

"Charon was the first person I met when I arrived here. When I came to the shores of the Styx as the new king of this realm, he asked me to give him one of these," Aidon said, fishing out two gold obolos. He picked up Persephone's hand and smiled at her before folding her fingers around an obol. "And aeons later, I can't for the life of me figure out what he does with all those coins."

She looked up into his eyes as he held her closed palm, and brushed his fingertips over her knuckles. Waves lapped against the shore, breaking the comfortable silence and drawing their attention. Persephone looked out to see a long gray boat bobbing on the water, its bowsprit peaked upward into three metal hound's heads, the center head holding a lamp in its teeth high above the water. On the stern, a dark figure sunk a long oar into the river and pushed toward them. The prow raked across the gravel of the shore in front of them as the hooded man walked the bracings to where they stood. He knelt low at the bow, his oar still in hand, and looked up at them from under the hood with a half smile. "So, did you intentionally keep her from us for so long?"

"Persephone, may I present Charon, son of Nyx, the ferryman of souls. And no, my friend, that was not my intention," he said holding out his coin. Charon pocketed the obol and looked to Persephone's extended hand holding out her own coin.

"You," he said with a voice like gravel as he waved her hand away, "You ride for free, my lady."

Aidoneus gaped at him before composing himself. "In all the years I've— Why?"

Charon removed his hood, revealing a smoothly bald and very pale head with ashen gray lips and sunken cheeks under high cheekbones. He looked up at both of them with eyes that swirled with the deep grays and blues of the river, "Why ask questions to which you already know the answer?" He extended his hand to Persephone with a smile. "Come, my Queen."

Persephone looked to Aidon first. When he nodded, she accepted Charon's hand, picking her skirts up above the water's surface as she stepped in. Aidon followed, settling beside her in the stern. Charon pushed the boat away from the shoreline and back into the calm waters of the Styx.

As he pushed the boat into the wide part of the river, Charon began humming a gentle song to himself. Persephone's eyes opened wide and her lips parted. Her mother had sung that lullaby to her when she was a small child. He looked at her, and smiled when he saw that she recognized it.

She squinted when a wisp of cloud passed under the water, echoing the sky in the world above. The wispy streak reflected in his changing irises. "If you don't mind my asking, why do your eyes reflect the river?"

Aidon snorted, then cleared his throat to cover his amusement, knowing how the boatman might respond. Charon didn't disappoint. "Is the Styx not my home? Do your eyes not reflect the blue sky of the world above and the gray fields of the world below?"

Persephone paused for a moment, looking away as she pondered his words. Hecate had spoken earlier about her coming in to her powers now that she was Queen of the Underworld— her new home. She knitted her brows together at the boatman. "Do you always answer questions with questions?"

He smiled. "Why should I give clear and solid answers to questions when they flow as dark and mutable as the mother river?"

Aidon smiled again as Persephone wrinkled her nose. "Forgive him, sweet one. He spends his days being interrogated by the shades."

Charon smiled apologetically. "Your husband speaks the truth. The sad thing is that it's always the same question I'm asked, and I can only give them one answer: 'Because you are dead'. So please forgive me, my lady, for my puzzles and riddles. My job demands them so I might comfort those who make the journey across the river— and also to keep myself entertained." He dipped his oar into the Styx once more, then turned his head back toward Persephone. "Speaking of, my lady, I take it you recognized the song?"

The lullaby. He knew. Persephone smiled in answer, saying nothing. Charon nodded his head to her and guided the boat onward. They floated slowly downstream toward marshes so wide that both shorelines were faded by mist. Drowned cypress trees reflected deep into the mirror of the water, broken up by tall clumps of feathery gray rushes. A handful of shades of every age and station stood together on the far side of the river.

"I'll come back and get them later," Charon said.

"Who are we receiving now?" Aidon said absently, leaning his foot against the center bracing of the boat.

"Well, the deluge of the very young and very old has ceased for the most part. But even still, there's more standing at the shore than I'd like. Can we safely assume the bad harvest is winding down?" Charon asked.

Aidon held his breath and looked at Persephone, wondering whether or not he should have told her, and if she was angry at him for not saying anything before. She simply sighed and looked at the thin shades. "My mother…"

_Demeter throws a tantrum,_ Aidoneus thought,_ and the mortals suffer_. He thinned his lips, remembering when Hermes first delivered the news. He looked down. "I should have told you."

Persephone hated to think that the mortals were suffering on her account. It was likely temporary. Her mother was none too happy about her coming here, but she had been part of arranging her betrothal to Aidon all those years ago. Persephone thought back to the tapestries hanging in the palace's great hall, showing her mother, father and her husband during the war with the Titans. Their promise had sealed the Olympians' pact.

"I _will_ see her again," she said, as Aidon's breath hitched. "Won't I? She can visit me here, can't she?"

Aidoneus smiled in front of clenched teeth before he could speak without betraying his anger. "Of course she can."

He squeezed her hand protectively. What could Demeter possibly do to Persephone in a kingdom where he held absolute power?

"Have you seen the marshes and river lands of Acheron up close, my lady? The Styx flows into and out of it to the black sea beyond— Oceanus. From there we receive the souls lost at sea in the world above. Usually I land here," Charon said, pointing to the smooth limestone docks leading from the marshes to the fields beyond the near shore, "and the shades go up that wide path to be judged at the Trivium," he said, motioning up the cobblestone path. At the distant end of the path loomed an enormous frieze of black granite supported by four rows of columns.

"Where do they all go?"

"To Asphodel, mostly," Aidoneus replied. "It's very rare that we send someone to Tartarus."

"We?"

"Aeacus, Rhadamanthys, and his brother Minos. They were kings of men and mortal sons of Zeus when they were alive. They sit in judgment over most of the shades and decide by vote," he said. "There was a time when I presided over all the judgments, but the mortals' numbers grew too great. Now, I only personally preside over the trials of kings and other rulers, so that my judges will not be prejudiced either for or against them. I don't want rivalries from their mortal lives affecting the immortal fates of those sent here. I also need to remind the wealthy and powerful that their status in life means nothing once they get here."

Persephone's mouth grew dry. "A-are we going to visit Tartarus?"

Aidon ran his thumb along her clenched knuckles. "No, sweet one. Rest assured I will never take you there."

"But it _is_ part of your— our kingdom."

"There are things down there that no one has seen since the war. And certainly not anything I should expose you to."

The reeds of the marsh parted and Charon rowed the boat toward the delta of the rivers. A tributary, red as blood, flowed away from the Styx and into the distance. Its banks were lined with black hooded shades staring vacantly into the waters.

"The Cocytus," Aidoneus said. "The judges will send some there for a time, to reflect on their actions in life. They stare into the river to see the pain they have caused. Some must stare for… a long time."

The tributary disappeared behind a hill, the land and gray clouds flickering and glowing orange and red in the distance. Persephone swallowed and pointed at the smoldering horizon. "Is that light from Tartarus?"

"How does something shine when it destroys the light?" Charon mused, turning to look back at her.

Aidoneus shot the boatman a warning glance. "The glow comes from the fires of the molten river Phlegethon. It surrounds the Pit of Tartarus and keeps us safe," he said, wrapping an arm around her waist.

"Safe from what?"

Charon and Aidoneus exchanged a glance, then looked back at her.

Persephone shivered before answering her own question. "The Titans."

"Yes," Aidon said solemnly. "You'll never need to worry about them, sweet one. Tartarus is as far below us as Chthonia is below the living world."

"Chthonia? I don't—" Persephone looked away, embarrassed. She should have learned all these things long ago. She looked down at her lap and plaited her hands together. Aidon brought his arm up her back, massaging her shoulder.

"In the old tongue, Chthonia means 'beneath the earth'. The mortals call this place 'Hades', but it's been here much longer than I have ruled it," he said quietly. Her face fell. "Persephone, it's all right. I imagine this is a bit overwhelming. Honestly, I think I had far more questions than you when I first arrived…"

"Oh, you were terrible, Aidon!" Charon interrupted, making Persephone smile. The ferryman stood upright, stiffened his shoulders so he looked taller, and lowered his voice doing an impression of her husband in his younger days. "'What's this? Who's that? How does this work? I want to change the way we do that! Why can't I change it?' You were an utter terror your first century here!"

Charon rowed on one side, turning the boat around. Aidon would have reprimanded the boatman, but he was too busy melting. It was the first time his wife had laughed in his presence— by far the most beautiful sound he'd ever heard. Persephone covered her mouth and stopped, thinking she had offended Aidoneus. She looked up at him smiling broadly at her and relaxed as he held her by her arms again, leaning her back onto his chest. She giggled once more. He planted a slow kiss on the top of her head and breathed in the scent of her hair, sending a shiver down her spine.

They docked on the far side of the river, the waiting shades kneeling as Aidoneus climbed out of the boat and landed shin deep in the water. He lifted Persephone into his arms and walked up the embankment, setting her down once they reached the shore. With a quick brush of his hand, his sandals and the soaked edges of his himation instantly dried.

She waved goodbye to Charon as the assembled souls stood and climbed cautiously into his boat, a coin in each of their hands. Charon's soul-laden boat pushed off from the shore, and Persephone felt Aidon wrap an arm around her. The boatman raised his long oar to salute them.

She turned to her husband. "All these shades… If most go to Asphodel and the especially evil go to Tartarus, where do the good ones go?"

"What do you mean?" he said.

"The good mortals— the ones who were especially brave or kind. There's no place for them?"

"Mortals are mortals and Asphodel is there for them. There's little difference between them individually. All people are a sum of their parts, good and bad," he shrugged. "The better they are in life, the easier a time they have here; the better chance of being reborn to the living world."

"And that's their only reward?"

"Unless they defied the gods or committed despicable acts in their lifetime, yes."

Persephone knitted her brow again and silently looked across the marsh to the Plain of Judgment.

"Are you ready to go home?"

"Yes, but won't it take Charon a while to come back here?"

"There's no need to interrupt him. We'll just travel to the palace through the ether."

Persephone lowered her eyes once more, as she had on the boat. He looked at her in confusion. "You don't know how?"

She turned away from him and balled her fists, saying nothing. Her shoulders tensed forward.

Aidon cautiously put his hands on them. "Persephone, I didn't mean it that way."

"I don't understand why you have any interest in me at all," she said under her breath. "I know nothing about your kingdom—"

"Most don't."

"—I don't even know how to travel the way gods are supposed to," she said, tears stinging her eyes. "You are the eldest of the three most powerful immortals in existence and I'm just— I know nothing."

"Look at me," he said, leaning over her and turning her toward him. "There is nothing wrong with you. I don't understand why Demeter didn't—" he stopped and closed his eyes before saying something he would regret. "She was only trying to protect you."

"I'm just a flower goddess, Aidon; I'm an afterthought compared to my mother. I have no idea what I'm even doing here…" A tear traitorously spilled down her cheek as she looked away from him again. Aidon caressed her face, catching the droplet as it fell. He lifted her chin so her eyes met his once more.

"Persephone, you're my wife; everything I rule I lay at your feet. You are queen of the richest part of what we divided after the war, and the Fates decided you were going to be a ruler before you were even born."

"What kind of a queen am I? I've hardly left my room since I got here—"

"That's more my fault than anything—"

"—and I didn't even know the true name of where I've _lived for over three weeks_. There is so much I _need_ to know."

Aidon startled and looked away from her for a moment, remembering what Thanatos had said to him that morning. This was the perfect opportunity.

Persephone saw light dance in his eyes and a smile barely peak the corners of his mouth. "What is it?"

"I could teach you."

"H-how to travel through the ether?"

"It's not as difficult as you think."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. It would be my pleasure to show you how," he said. "All you have to do is hold on."

"We should wait?"

"No," he said with the faintest hint of a smile. "I meant hold on to _me_."

"Oh," she murmured, feeling heat rush to her face. Persephone carefully put her hands around his waist, feeling the heat from his body through the heavy wool himation.

"You'll have to hold on tighter than that," he said quietly. She brought her arms up around his neck and stood on the tips of her toes, her lips tingling as she came face to face with him. His arm braced her against him, his palm spreading across the center of her back between her shoulder blades, crushing her chest to his. She watched Aidon reach toward the shore with his left hand, his rings glinting against the backdrop of the palace.

"First of all, everyone does this differently. The gods all have their own strength; their own sigil or _aegis_. I live in an unseen realm, shrouded in darkness, and draw my strength from that. You however, are from the world above, and your own sigil will reflect that. You will see it," he whispered into her ear. "And once you make it _yours_ everyone will see it."

His closeness made her shiver. Her breath hitched as black smoke started to swirl around their feet, moving outward, upward, surrounding them. Persephone held her cheek against his, her shallow breathing so different from his focused, measured breath.

Aidoneus leaned closer and whispered in her ear, "You have to concentrate on where you want to go. Picture that you are already there, that you were there the entire time."

She wrapped her arms tighter around his neck, her entire body shaking as the smoke closed in around them, blotting out everything. She remembered the sun turning red from the smoke in Nysa when he pulled her into his chariot. She remembered how she wrapped her body around his in the darkness of Erebus and shuddered.

"All you have to do is let go—" he whispered. She felt the rush of the ether take them in a blink of silver and crimson light. She didn't even have time to breathe before they were standing under the golden poplar tree overhanging the entrance to the palace. "—and there you are."

She gasped, and looked around. Persephone felt his arms tighten around her shoulders as he bent over, gently returning her feet to the solid ground. She looked up at him, suddenly cold from the heat from his body leaving her skin. Her arms and thighs prickled. She saw Aidon's gaze scan over her body, his eyes stopping just below the neckline of her chiton. With a sharp inhale, she realized that the tips of her breasts were chafing the fabric and very visible to him. His nostrils flared before he took a long breath and averted his eyes.

"My mother didn't take me with her through the ether very often. We only ever visited Olympus twice; both times were when I was a very young girl. When I started becoming a woman, we left Nysa through the ether to live in Eleusis. Then once when the mortals were waging war on each other in Attica. And the last time I went with her was to Nysa so she could hide me from… from you."

His face was solemn as she spoke, but she saw a hint of sadness in his eyes. Aidon masked it with a pained smile and let her continue.

"So, I didn't have much experience with it," she said, her mouth mischievously twisting up at the corners. "But I know for certain that I didn't have to hold on to my mother like… that… when she began the journey."

Aidon narrowed his eyes and leaned toward her. "In case you think that I was using it as an excuse to press your beautiful body against mine," he flirted, making her shiver as his gaze slowly moved over her once more, "I assure you it was necessary. We were traveling through the ether between points in the Underworld. You will need to practice first. Even an experienced god has far less control over it here than they do in the world above; including me."

She shook her head incredulously and muttered, "Everything about this place…"

"You don't like it here…" Aidon's face fell and his eyes looking away.

"No!" she said wide-eyed. "No, that's not what I meant. Chthonia is just so very… different. Beautiful and different. I— I like that I had to hold on to you," she blushed.

Aidon straightened, taken aback, before he took a step closer to her and cupped her face in his hand, running his thumb across her cheek. He carefully leaned over and rested his forehead against hers, letting her make the first move to kiss him. Persephone stared up at his dark eyes and saw a soft smile on his face. She stepped into the kiss, feeling his arms close around her. She crushed her lips against his. Her hands came up to his collarbone, her index finger slowly winding through her favorite lock of hair at the nape of his neck; the one that was always too short to be caught in the band he wore to pull back his unruly hair.

He wanted so badly to deepen the kiss. Aidon could feel himself pulling toward her, entranced by her as his fingers spread out along her waist and shoulder blades. Instead, he pulled away from her lips, listening to her shudder. "We should practice."

She could feel his voice, just a little above a whisper in the center of her chest. Her lips moved forward again, but he tilted his forehead to hers to avoid the kiss. Aidon looked into her eyes, smiling as Persephone echoed him. "Practice?"

"I said I would teach you. But not here." He took a step back and held up his left hand to show her his three rings. "Do you know what these are?"

She shook her head, watching light glint off and reflect within each deep red cabochon.

"They are called the Key of Hades."

She bit the corner of her lip and tilted her head.

"Trust me; I didn't name it," he said with a half smile. "But to protect the world above, the Key was given only to me. If the unthinkable happened and something escaped Tartarus, I alone would be able to seal off the Underworld. This represents the only pathway between the worlds through the ether."

"But others come and go from here, don't they? What about Thanatos, or Hecate? Or Hermes?"

"You've met Thanatos?"

"No," she said, "but everyone knows who Death is and where he's from. He's a skeleton cloaked in black."

"Most of the time in the world above, yes, he is. Down here, though, he looks very different. Thanatos and his brothers cannot truly cross over through the ether. They only appear as shadows of themselves in the world above." He held his fingers out to Persephone and watched as she took his hand and gingerly touched the cold stones, closing her warm hands around his. "Hermes doesn't use the ether to travel; he's too fast to need it, and only comes down through the passageways to guide lost souls back here. And… well, Hecate is never really here."

"What do you mean? I see her almost every day."

"What I mean to say is Hecate never really leaves the ether. She is its goddess— as much a ruler of all the spaces and pathways between the worlds as I am ruler of the Underworld, or your father ruler of the sky. While she prefers to appear most often in Chthonia, she's not ever truly bodily here."

"What will happen to me if I cross over? Will I become a shadow?"

"No," he said, "Nothing will happen to you. You're from the living world; which is why it will be easier for us to practice there."

She stared up at him, wide eyed, almost disbelieving what he'd just said. Was he going to actually take her above? She would be able to see the green fields again, to see the sky once more. "I won't run away," she blurted out.

"What?"

"I won't run away," she repeated quietly.

He wouldn't allow it anyway. He couldn't let her go now, not when he was so very close… Her lips were parted and he dove back into a kiss, unable to stop himself from tasting her. She felt her arms creep up his shoulders to his neck once more. The tips of her fingers danced across his skin as she held onto him.

Persephone broke away from the kiss and looked up at him. "Teach me."


	17. Chapter 16

_Teach me…_

Persephone's whispered words scalded Aidoneus. All he could think about was her body pressed to his, the thin layers of cloth the only barrier between them. He brought her harder against him with one arm and locked his lips to hers. With his left hand, he reached out, enveloping them in black smoke, ready to transport them through the ether to the world above. Her eyes closed and her tongue danced with his as the Underworld vanished around them.

_Nysa_, he thought.

She felt them being pulled through, the silver and crimson light of the ether whipping about them as they traveled together. Persephone broke away from their kiss. The black smoke that had lifted them out of the Underworld condensed under their feet to hold them aloft, solid against the infinite expanse of the void. All was quiet. Vertigo gripped her as it had the few times she transported with her mother. Persephone didn't know if the silver light and clouds were twisting about them, or if they were falling headlong through them. The journey took much longer this time. She looked down to see the rings on Aidon's hand glowing fiery red. She gripped his shoulders tighter, and he responded by pulling her closer to his chest. She felt safe and secure against him as she tried to blot out the very real fear of falling through this void forever, lost in the spaces between worlds.

"We're almost through," Aidoneus said, then braced himself, his legs apart, supporting her. She watched as the light gave way, threads of silver pulling back from them to be replaced with darkness. Stars appeared, the brighter ones with peculiar haloes around them. Silhouettes of wild cypress blocked out the midnight blue of the sky and the stars above. She knew this place…

The ethereal threads disappeared entirely and he almost reluctantly released his grip on her, watching as she slid down and away to stand on her own two feet and look around. Aidoneus could see his breath before he felt the cold. It was curious; foreign. He looked down and saw Persephone shivering, her arms held around her sleeveless shoulders. He quickly unclasped his himation and wrapped its folds around her, gritting his teeth against the bite of the cold air.

She felt the warmth of his body radiating from the soft wool, his fresh, masculine scent caught in the heavy folds of cloth. Persephone startled, realizing where they were. It was the grove; this was Hades' sacred grove at Nysa. She closed her eyes, remembering when she lay here in the dappled sunlight, his unseen fingers teasing and caressing her naked skin as she came for the first time, her back arching in the soft celery grasses of the clearing.

It seemed like a lifetime ago. She reached down to the ground. The wild celery had dried brown, their dead husks turning to dust in her hands. The asphodel showed no flowers, the black stems sticking up out of the ground. She saw her breath in front of her face and looked at Aidon. His teeth were chattering. "Aidon, you're freezing…"

"Don't worry about me," he said. Aidoneus felt her press her warm body against his as she wrapped the heavy fabric around both of them

"Why is it so cold?"

"I don't know." They looked up; the frost-haloed stars disappeared behind dark clouds. An infinitely tiny speck floated out of the sky and drifted between them, vanishing as quickly as it had appeared. Another followed, then another, then the air around them was full of gently falling cold flakes. They clumped together as they spun through the air cascading into one another. One tiny clump landed on Persephone's nose, melting instantly.

Persephone wiped the droplet and examined it on her hand. "This isn't possible; it only snows on the very highest mountain tops. Higher than Parnassus, even…"

Aidoneus looked around watching as snow fell about them in the field. It melted when it hit the ground, but the dead plants and tree branches held it aloft, their topsides slowly turning white. _Demeter wouldn't do this; she couldn't, _he thought. "We should go back."

"No; please Aidon. I want to try."

"Are you sure?"

"Well, I'm warm enough. Are you sure you're all right?"

He thought back to when Zeus, Poseidon and he carefully scaled the wind-whipped face of Mount Othrys all those aeons ago. "I've felt cold worse than this. At least there's no wind. Something here is off balance, though. If you don't mind, I'm going to skip ahead a bit in our lessons and have _you_ send us back to the Other Side."

"Aidon, I'm not powerful enough to—"

"Yes you are." He stepped away from her warmth and lifted her chin to look into her eyes. He closed his hand around hers, her fingers lacing through his alongside the rings. "I wouldn't have asked you to do this unless I knew you could."

"H-how do I even start?"

"Close your eyes," he said as she did so without hesitation. "Breathe with me, now. In and out."

Persephone inhaled through her nose and exhaled slowly, following as he breathed with her. She could only feel his hand gripping hers and the ground beneath her feet.

"Whatever you may be thinking about, Persephone— any limitations, any feelings, anything at all— let them go. There is only you, the immortal goddess, and there is only the place you want to be. Concentrate."

_Grow_, she thought. Persephone felt her other hand raise almost on its own, her fingers bending toward the earth, her wrist curling upward. Aidoneus watched as a dark stalk sprouted out of the freezing earth, turning green and almost glowing as it lifted. One six-petal asphodel blossom opened along its length, then another. She could see it in her mind as the petals peeled back, their anthers unfurling, their stamen standing on end. She frowned, "I only made a flower, Aidon. I'm not—"

"Concentrate!" he said sharply. Aidoneus felt an echo of energy surge all the way through him from the earth itself and flow out to her through their joined hands. His rings smoldered like coals.

Upward through her feet, outward through her hands and pulsing like the touch of her husband through her core, she felt the raw earth and all that lay beneath it surge into her. With a turn of her wrist, she channeled it through her outstretched fingertips. The asphodel stalk grew faster, the top bursting with an impossible mass of buds.

In her mind she saw fire— Aidon's chariot in the bowels of the earth outside Erebus, just before he claimed her. She saw the wreath from her hair, in her betrothed husband's uplifted hand, the ashes flying away as the heat set it aflame. She remembered picking the asphodel to make that wreath from this very ground, how the red-orange anthers had ignited as they traveled through the fires of the earth.

As the buds opened in front of her outstretched hand, one ember emerged, then another, swirling, the flames increasing as more buds opened in orange flames. The fire itself became a blazing ring that stretched in front of them, flaring with heat, melting the snow that clung to the plants around them.

Through the ring of fire, Aidoneus saw the silver threads of the ether and smiled triumphantly. They pulled and tugged at the flames and latched themselves to a speck in the distance that grew wider, coming into focus and pulling their destination toward them. He could make out the garden of the palace, the stone walls, and the fields beyond. His mouth dropped open as a shiver crept up his spine in a mixture of arousal and astonishment. This was impossible— no one could bridge the ethereal reach this way. Except for his wife. Aidoneus had been wrong— intriguingly wrong about her— Persephone was a goddess beyond his reckoning.

She opened her eyes and shuddered out a long breath, staring into the fire, her arm outstretched toward its center. She felt her husband's wonder and admiration; she felt the earth's energy and the pull of the fire. "The Phlegethon," she breathed.

It was only when she whispered it that Aidoneus recognized the circle of flame. He opened his eyes wide and a very old emotion he hadn't allowed himself to feel in aeons came rushing through him. Fear. She was drawing the fires from Tartarus itself. He swallowed hard. "Persephone…"

_Help me_.

The voice was small— too small for him to notice. "I hear someone—"

"Persephone, don't listen to him! Close the gateway now! CLOSE IT!" he shouted at her.

"No," she replied calmly. Persephone felt his fear pulse into her hand and looked back to comfort him. "It's all right, my husband."

Aidoneus almost staggered back as she turned to him. Her eyes were rimmed in fire, glowing an orange that matched the circle before them. She calmly turned back to the ring of fire. For a moment he considered letting go of her hand, breaking the Key's connection to the ether and their home beyond, but feared that she would be pulled in and lost to either the Pit or the void. He had to try to reason with her. "Persephone; wife,_ do not_ listen to him. No matter what he—"

"She. It's a woman," she paused, listening, "Her name is Merope."

"Merope?" He had never sent anyone to Tartarus by that name. His brow knitted in confusion, and fear was slowly replaced by curiosity. He closed his eyes and connected with Tartarus all the way through her body toward her outstretched fingertips, focusing on the gateway she created. He listened for the voice.

_Please help me_, it said. _I don't belong here._

"They all say that," he scoffed, withdrawing from it.

"Sisyphus…"

Aidoneus stopped. Now that _was_ a name he recognized.

"Sorcerer king of Ephyra," Persephone continued. "Merope was his wife. He tricked them."

"Tricked who?"

"The brothers. Your judges, Minos and Rhadamanthys, with a glamour. They thought she was Sisyphus. They presented her as Sisyphus to you and you sent her to Tartarus."

"Impossible. No mortal could ever summon sorcery strong enough to fool—"

"Gods above…" Persephone cursed under her breath shaking her head in shock, "…the things he did to her. Listen, Aidon."

He closed his eyes and focused again on the crying voice.

_...us both on the funeral pyre… imprinted his essence on me as I burned… calls himself a deathless god king in Ephyra, now… a kinslayer… blasphemer… sent me in his place. Please Lord Hades, Polydegmon, you are a just god…_

"Aidon, please, we must help her," she echoed, looked back at him, her eyes rimmed in fire, her face pleading with him.

_A pyre_, he thought. Ephyra's people were Thessalonian. _The people of Thessaly don't build pyres; they bury their dead. Unless…_ He nodded to Persephone. "All right. I'll speak to the Hundred Handed Ones."

"They hear us," she said. The fire told her everything. They were the guardians of the Titans and the wicked. The jailers of the Pit of Tartarus. The vision of their home faded from the center of the circle, replaced with the gaping maw of black flames from her nightmares last night. She shuddered.

_Praxidike…?_

This time, Persephone recoiled. A sound so deep and resonant it almost made her nauseous welled up in fifty voices speaking as one from the dark fires. Aidon could hear it too. He protectively tightened his grip on her hand. "I've got you," he whispered.

"Wh-who are you?" she said.

_More importantly_, the many-voiced one asked, _who are you?_

"Kottos," Aidoneus said to the Hundred Handed One, "you are addressing my wife."

_Ahh, _Kottos said, _my brothers and I have waited aeons for you, my queen. Persephone Praxidike Chthonios. She Who Destroys the Light. Carrier of Curses. The Iron Queen of the Underworld._

"What am I?" she whispered to herself, trembling.

Aidon could feel her faltering. "Sweet one, it's all right."

_We are yours to command, Praxidike._

She straightened, then looked back at Aidon who nodded to her. She spoke to the fire, "A woman is being held in Tartarus. A glamour has been cast over her. Her name is Merope, and she was sent there in place of Sisyphus of Ephyra. I command that you release her at once from the Pit."

_And what should we do with her?_

"See that she is brought to the Palace of Hades. We must learn all we can from her," she turned back to Aidoneus, her eyes flaring in anger. "The sorcerer king must be brought to judgment for what he did to her."

_As you wish, Praxidike._

The fire flared once and the maw of black flames vanished back into the ring. The fires calmed and grew friendly. Their home once again stood on the other side. Persephone looked at Aidon, her eyes returned to normal and her hand shaking in his grip. The sun started to dawn in the east, nearly obscured by storm clouds whipping flurries of snow around them. "Can we go home now?"

"Yes," he said quietly with a nod. She gripped his hand. He took a step forward and held her at the small of her back. Aidon just watched her, his heart racing. This was not the screaming girl he dragged into his chariot from the field of Nysa. His wife was a darkly magnificent creature, stepping through the ring of fire she created with him at her side. Persephone— his Queen.


	18. Chapter 17

The journey home was quick; mere steps. When the threads of the ether closed the ring of fire behind them, they found themselves standing in the palace gardens. The blanket of misty clouds above was awash in the brilliant colors of dusk, reflecting the light from the river Styx. It was so much warmer here, and she realized that she still had her husband's robes wound around her shoulders. The cold from mere moments before still clung to him. Persephone took off Aidon's himation and draped the dark fabric around his shoulder once more. He closed his eyes and inhaled as she sweetly attended to him; it smelled like her now— lilies, ocean mist and warm earth. He watched her carefully pin the golden brooch at his shoulder.

"Persephone…"

Aidoneus wrapped his arms around her, and she leaned into his chest. He pulled her closer, his hands gripping at her skin. They breathed shakily, both trying to understand what happened, what it meant, what they saw, what she was able to do. The tension left his fingers and he flattened his hands against her back, soothing and holding her. She sighed and closed her eyes, listening to each slowing breath. Her ear pressed over his heart, she slowly opened her eyes.

Persephone blinked at what she saw. "Aidon, this is the garden, isn't it? I didn't accidentally take us somewhere else, did I?"

"No, sweet one; you brought us home."

"What is _that_, then?"

He followed her gaze and saw rough bark on a slender tree trunk. When he looked up through the canopy of branches, he saw vibrant green leaves unlike any he'd ever seen, the boughs winding through the branches of another similar tree. Aidoneus and Persephone turned in a circle to see that they were surrounded by six such trees that stood twice their height, each one spread out to touch the one next to it.

"My dreams," they whispered in near unison and looked at each other in shock.

"You've seen these too?!" Persephone said.

"I hardly sleep as it is, and I see them every time I shut my eyes," he said, stunned. "They started when I brought you here. What about you?"

"Same," she broke away from him and walked over to the tree, smoothing her hand over the rough bark. "Every night. Last night, when I woke up and you held me… I saw these trees; then fire."

He walked over to a different tree and reached up to run his hand along one of the waxy leaves. "This is impossible…" he said under his breath. "Persephone! Touch the leaves; they're warm. Like the sun has been shining on them all day. Do you have any idea what they are? I've never seen anything like them in my realm."

"Pomegranate, I think? …Hard to tell when they're so young." She walked around one tree and stared up through its branches at the sky. "It's getting dark; I'll be able to see them better tomorrow."

They circled the small grove, touching the leaves and branches as they went, and met on the opposite side under one of the trees. Persephone almost ran into the wall of his chest, distracted by the winding branches. She saw the same astonishment she felt written across his face. Aidon drew her close again and held her face in his hands. "In all the aeons I waited for you, I never dreamed—"

She cut him off with a kiss, interrupting him before he said something she wasn't ready to hear. Persephone kissed him hard on the lips, and felt Aidon surge against her. A familiar coil tightened in her stomach. His hands wandered down her waist and over her hips as her tongue played against his. She brought her hands around him, her fingernails raking over his clothed back. They broke away and watched the fading light of dusk frame the silhouette of the trees.

"Aidon, we have to tell Hecate."

"Yes," he said, "Though I have a feeling she already knows. If these are tied to our dreams I should also speak with Morpheus…"

She looked up at him for a long moment and swallowed. "In Nysa when I created the ring of fire, I… I never thought I could do anything like that. Not ever. Thank you for showing me," she said, running a hand along his cheek. He turned his head and kissed her palm.

"You were magnificent."

"Then, you're not… upset that I can create a gateway like that? That I have more control over the ether than I thought I did— than you thought I had, and possibly more than you, even?"

"What?" he said in amused bewilderment.

"I'm just worried," she said looking at the ground and fidgeted, tapping her fingers together, "that you don't want me, as your consort, to be able to just _create_ something like that my first time out. That what I did would somehow make you feel… emasculated… and that you wouldn't want me afterward."

His lips curled into a half smile as he tilted her chin up to look into her eyes again. Aidon's face turned serious once more. He grabbed her wrist and stepped toward her, pressing her hand over the hardness quickening under his clothes. He smirked when her eyes grew wide, then circled his arm around her waist and pulled her even closer. His heat arched into her hand, and he sucked in air through his teeth as her fingers closed around him through the fabric. Her lips parted and she shuddered, warmth flooding into her and echoing his arousal.

"Tell me again, Persephone, how you think I could feel emasculated by you," he crooned in the deepest register of his voice.

Her voice cracked, "I—"

He stole a kiss from her then, drawing her figure into his arms and tipping her back as she clung to him. Aidon mated his tongue with hers, the depth of their kiss a portent for all he wanted to do to her that night. His voice was low and dangerous, his words whispered against her neck when he broke away from her lips. "On the contrary, sweet one, I've never desired you the way I desire you now."

She kissed him just in front of his ear, feeling light headed, her stomach fluttering at his words and the sway he held over her body. "Aidon…"

"Please Persephone," he said grinding into her once more, "do not deny me anything tonight. I need you…"

He felt her tense.

He let out a long breath before continuing. "I would never dream of taking you unwillingly," he said, "but if this is what you want—"

Persephone kissed him hard, her body quaking. She felt her thighs twitch and moaned into his mouth as his hand came up to her breast, roughly cupping and molding her clothed flesh in his palm. She pulled back and whispered hoarsely to him, "Take me inside."

That was all he needed to hear. Aidon grabbed her hand and marched them out of the garden. He took them through the portico toward the entrance to the palace, pushing her against one of the heavy doors and kissing her hard as he pulled the other open. She darted out of his grasp with a nervous titter as the door swung wide and ran along the hallways ahead of him, bidding him to chase her, stopping suddenly at the column base of the stairs and biting her lower lip. He stalked toward her and crushed her body between the stone column and his own, his lips moving over her neck, earlobe and jaw line before capturing hers.

She took his hand as they walked up the steps, pausing for a long kiss at each landing. When they neared her room she laughed and ran down the hall ahead of him, looking back to see him give chase once more as she disappeared into the amethyst room. He found Persephone again near her door and pulled her against him. He moved her backward, clasping her hands within his at their sides as they walked through the ebony doors of her bedroom.

Persephone broke away and sat on the bed, scooting back toward the pillows. Aidon slammed the doors shut while she untied and kicked off her sandals. She looked up at the lamps in the room and back at him, expecting them to be extinguished. They were not. Her breath hitched as he strode toward the bed.

"Not tonight," he said, following her gaze to the lamps above. "I'm through hiding in the dark from you." Her eyes lit up hearing him say it. He sat next to her, quickly removing his sandals.

"Then don't leave before the light comes," she said.

He stroked her face. "I won't."

She kissed him, feeling him tug at the edges of her clothes, exposing her collarbone. He kissed her jaw line and across the hollow of her neck before sliding the fabric over one shoulder. "Why do you always go?"

He looked up at her, then back to the pins holding the fabric to her. "Rulership over this realm comes with many responsibilities," he said, avoiding her question. _I leave so that I don't have to look into your eyes and see that you do not yet love me_, he thought. He swallowed and continued. "Besides, I only ever sleep a few hours at a time. Holding the Key means constantly hearing the voices and prayers of everyone in this kingdom. It's why I remove my rings when I'm with you."

"Aren't you worried someone will take them?" she said as he pulled them off his fingers, their gold bands clicking together as he set them on the stand.

"If someone tried, they'd just return to my hand. They're bound to me alone."

The chiton clung to the curve of her breasts as he expertly pulled at the ribbon girdle, quickly unwrapping its length from her waist. He'd had enough practice removing it in the dark. Persephone grabbed for the pin holding up his himation and pulled it free of its housing, watching the heavy fabric fall around him. He pushed it away behind him, casting it to the floor, and lay back on the bed to watch her rise to her knees above him and remove one of the pins in her chiton.

The fabric fell away from one breast and exposed her all the way to her navel. Aidon shuddered, transfixed as she pulled away the long ribbon that bound her hair into a careful chignon. Persephone leaned her head back and shook free the long waves of her hair, emphasizing each motion for his enjoyment. She smiled and bit the corner of her lip as he eyed her hungrily. She took her time, moving her hand slowly up the length of what fabric still clung to her, watching him shift on the bed. He bit down on his cheek and clenched his fists until his knuckles turned white, willing himself not to tear the rest of her clothes off her body.

Persephone pulled apart the last clasp of her chiton and heard Aidon groan in appreciation as the fabric fell from her naked body and pooled around her knees. She brushed it over the side of the bed and tousled her dark hair once more, the curled ends falling over her breasts.

Aidon leaned forward and pulled her body to him, his mouth latching onto her breast. Persephone thrilled and gasped as his tongue laved the tender flesh. He gripped her waist and swung her smoothly to his side, pressing her back into the rumpled sheets and kneeling over her. Persephone pushed firmly against his chest until he was upright again and propped herself up with an elbow. She reached to his shoulders and pulled the pins from his tunic, the fabric falling to his waist. He breathed heavily through his nose and focused on her movements while she tugged at his knotted leather belt. She paused, distracted by that irresistible line that traveled from his hip straight into his groin and lightly traced its indent on his skin, watching his stomach jump.

"Persephone…" he ground out through clenched teeth, the scent of her arousal driving him mad.

"Hmm?" she said innocently. She fumbled with the belt once more, her wrists grazing his length as she struggled to free him.

"If you keep doing that, I don't know if I'll be able to stop myself…"

Persephone looked up into his eyes as the knot came loose. The released fabric fell and caught on his flesh before she tossed it aside. She met his eyes with a smirk and threw his belt to the floor, not breaking eye contact with Aidoneus. "What makes you think I want you to hold back?" she said breathlessly.

He inhaled sharply and pushed at her shoulders, lunging forward between her legs and pinning her underneath him. With all his might, Aidoneus thrust into her to the hilt.

They shuddered together and cried out in pleasure as he cleaved to her. He paused only to let Persephone wrap her splayed limbs around him, anchoring him inside her body, before thrusting in again. Her fingernails scratched pink lines down his back.

Aidon gripped the sheets and laid his head beside hers as he formed their rhythm, his breath coming out in hard pants against her neck with each sharp thrust. She answered with punctuated cries, which changed to a long low moan as he took her faster, gliding through her.

Shifting his weight to one elbow, Aidon reached between her legs with his free hand and searched the top of her mound with the tips of his fingers. He smiled, feeling her keening against him when they found the source of her pleasure. When she started to tremble, he lightly pinched and rolled the nub between two fingers.

"AIDONEUS!" she screamed, clinging to him.

She used his true name— the name she once feared, the name that declared him the Lord of the Underworld and master of all the souls within it. He startled, the realization jarring him. Then her sheath squeezed around him in waves and erased all thought in a blinding flash of pleasure. He cried out and strained forward, collapsing against her.


	19. Chapter 18

Persephone held him close, listening to his ragged breathing. He separated from her with a sigh, but stayed locked between her legs. She finally opened her eyes to the marble reliefs above them. The images seemed animated by the soft play of shadows from the flickering light of the hundreds of tiny oil lamps. Persephone tilted her head forward to watch her hand run along the smooth muscles of Aidon's shoulder and back.

When her fingers moved over a ridge on his skin, she felt Aidon tense and hold his breath. The line of a raised white scar stretched underneath them. It thickened and pitted slightly, cutting a widened swath down his shoulder blade and traveling in a jagged line across the center of his back before disappearing under his right arm.

He stayed still, vulnerable, as she examined it. Persephone moved to sit up and Aidoneus slowly rose with her, his legs folded under him. She crawled behind him on her knees to view the scar in full. Closing his eyes, he willed himself to let her look. Just when he thought she would be repulsed and recoil from him, her palm gingerly touched his skin again and caressed his shoulders.

"What made this?"

"Cronus," he said quietly.

Persephone cringed. She knew the story well— how Father Cronus had devoured his children one by one as they were born to stop an ancient prophecy. How Zeus, her father, had escaped that fate and later freed the other five Olympians, her mother among them.

"I was the first. He saw himself, his likeness in me when I lay in Rhea's arms. He'd never done it, or thought to do it, before he saw me, and I was not devoured… cleanly."

He tried to stop himself from shivering as buried memories of twisting pain and half his life spent in claustrophobic darkness rushed back to him. He remembered screaming and crying as a child, wondering what he had done wrong. More children arrived, and he swallowed all emotion to stay strong for the others. Hestia came soon after him, and later Hera. Then Poseidon, and lastly, squalling and terrified, the infant Demeter. As they grew up in oblivion, they feared him— when they saw him in the dark, they saw their father's face. He'd earned his epithet, Receiver of Many, far before drawing the lot to rule the Underworld.

She felt his body shudder. His chin tipped forward to hide his face behind the curls of black hair that had come loose in the throes of passion. Persephone wrapped her arms around him, pressing herself against his back, and against the scar. She stroked her finger along what was still visible on his shoulder and gently kissed the top of his head.

"You shouldn't look at it so closely, Persephone," Aidoneus murmured, trying to pull away. "It's not a sight for someone like you."

"No," she said softly, her finger tracing the scar once more as his shoulders tensed underneath it. "It's part of you, Aidoneus. It's part of what made you who you are now."

He sat stiffly and felt her body draw back from his. Just as he was about to turn, he felt her lips meet his shoulder and press a kiss to the scarred flesh. Aidon's breath caught in his throat and he stayed perfectly still while she slowly planted a trail of kisses down its length to the side of his arm.

She moved to face him. His lips were parted in shock, his eyes watering and staring deep into hers. Aidon rose up on his knees to meet her, and ran his fingers up her spine to tangle in her hair as he kissed her. "My love…" he whispered against her lips.

The words Persephone wanted to say to him burned in the back of her throat. In this moment, she wanted so badly to give in completely; to surrender to him and be his wife, to tell him what he wanted to hear. Instead, she kissed him again, feeling his arms come up her back, his hands caressing her neck. Persephone realized that after tonight this man, this king, this god, would never let her go— and she was certain now that she didn't want him to. But if Aidoneus knew that he'd won her…

She shuddered and drew back, looking at his face. Her gaze trailed across his body, taking in his wide shoulders and strong legs built with lean muscle. She reached out and smoothed her hands across his skin, learning him. Aidon sat still and let his wife's eyes, then her soft hands explore him. She moved in a circle around him, her knees pressing into the mattress. Persephone took one of his hands, drawing his long fingers out and tracing each knuckle, then his wrist.

"Did this place change you as well?"

"What do you mean?"

"Today I spoke with Hecate, and she told me that this place is changing me into the goddess I was born to be," she said, thinking about Kottos' words, and trying to picture her husband after he'd been freed from Cronus.

"This place calmed me considerably," Aidon said. "I was young and fresh from the war when I arrived; this lot was not what I'd fought for, and at first, I seethed. The Underworld tempered that anger, and turned me from a warrior into a king." He looked at the rounded curves of her breasts and hips, her darker hair, and understood what she really meant. Persephone was trying to picture him in earlier days. "Physically, I haven't changed much."

"What did change?"

"Well, I didn't trim my beard as often back then. And I got more sunlight on my skin. I kept my hair a bit shorter, but still wore it pulled back from my face for battle."

"The few gods I've seen keep their hair shorter than _that_, even…"

"I suppose that's the style, now. What— you want me to cut my hair?" he said with a coy grin.

"Oh no! I like it long," she said. "It suits you. And if you cut it short, what would I hold on to when—"

He watched her eyes widen and her lips part in shock at what she had just implied. Her face and breasts flushed a deep red as she looked away. Aidon grinned at her, and tipped her chin back up to look Persephone in the eye. "If that's how you really feel, wife," he said, planting a chaste kiss on her lips, "I'll _never_ cut it."

Persephone gave him another shy smile and undid the gold clasp that bound his curls back. She ran her fingertips in circles over his scalp, massaging them through his hair as he sighed and relaxed. Her hands moved over his shoulder and along the length of his other arm until she saw a razor thin white scar cutting upward along the side of his bicep. "Did Cronus do that too?"

Aidon glanced down to where she was tracing her finger and wrinkled his forehead in thought, almost forgetting where he got it. "No; that was from the war."

"I've never seen scars on an immortal before…"

"I was young and we were all very weak once we were freed; the Titans could injure us as easily as mortals wound each other. And I didn't have bolts of lightning or a trident to help keep my distance. I needed to get up close when I fought them."

"What happened here then?" she said, tracing its ridge once more.

"I think that one was from Koios, when we crossed swords at the base of Mount Othrys."

She imagined Aidoneus in his youth, the formidable warrior god, mightier than Ares. She pictured the hard muscles and sinews of his long legs protected by leather-bound greaves, his dark crested helm and golden armor flashing in the sunlit melee of battle. The clash of bronze against bronze, wood, and even flesh echoed in her imagination. Persephone quivered at the idea of Hades cutting down his foes like blades of grass, fighting his way through to duel with the ancient and deadly god of the oracles and intellect. Her eyes lit up and a smile teased the corners of her mouth. "Tell me more…"

"Well, sweet one, there's not much to tell about that battle… The Helm of Darkness had been very recently given to me for freeing the hosts of the Underworld. I hadn't had it for long and foolishly thought that because Koios couldn't see me, he couldn't hear me either. He turned and slashed in my direction, and I ducked out of the way, just barely." He looked down at the scar. "Or not enough, truthfully."

"How did you beat him?"

He tilted his head forward. "Are you sure you want to hear this?"

She nodded enthusiastically. He gave her a half smile, noting how adorable she looked sitting there with her hands clasped in her lap, unaware that her arms were drawing her breasts together into a deep and delicious cleavage.

"All right, then… When Koios' blade glanced off my arm, and because he couldn't see me, it gave me enough of an opening to… ahhh… put my sword through his neck," Aidon said, mumbling the last words.

Her eyes and mouth flew open and she shuddered as the fight played out in her head in all its bloody detail.

"Persephone, I told you… these stories might not be for you." Between a horrific childhood and his exploits during the war, she was going to think he was a monster. He watched her face carefully. _Maybe I am_, he thought. _Maybe I should have just left well enough alone_…

"No!" she pleaded. She took a deep breath and composed herself. "Please don't stop! I can handle it," she continued calmly.

His mind played with the innocent double meaning of her words and the palpable heat of her flushed skin. Aidon fought back a surprised smile as he caught the scent of lilacs in the air between them. He narrowed his eyes and smirked, indulging her. "With the Titans, we discovered that the only way to subdue them was to be quick about it. They were gods of time; a long fight was to their advantage. I ran Koios through and pinned him to the rocks with my sword still in his throat, then opened a gateway underneath him to Tartarus. When I slid the blade out, he fell into the Pit. His hosts saw that their lord god was gone and fled into the fields of Thessaly, where your father's Cyclopean army crushed them."

Her breath hitched and she leaned toward him again, her finger dancing across the scar once more. "Did it hurt?"

"It certainly stung, but it was just a flesh wound. Now this one," he said, turning to lay on his side and showing her a short scar on the outside of his right knee, "this one _hurt_."

She leaned over him as he sat back against the pillows and ran her hand over the jagged white scar. "How did you get it?"

"I was… protecting someone," he said, freezing. _I've gone too far; I shouldn't be telling this story_, he thought.

"From who?"

"Iapetos."

Persephone paled. Her mother had told her stories about Cronus' right hand, Iapetos the Piercer— the cruel god of finite mortality itself. "Wh-who were you protecting?"

"You."

She looked up at him in shock. "But my mother said he went to Tartarus before I was born."

"He did," Aidoneus said. "I sent him there."

Persephone leaned against his chest as he lay back and felt him take a long breath. He ran his hand through the wavy strands of her hair that had spilled across his shoulder.

"Right after Zeus freed us, and before we convened on Olympus, the six of us scattered across Hellas so Cronus couldn't find us. All of us were very weak, and it was only with the intervention of a few of the old gods that we survived at all. Zeus retreated back to Crete with Rhea, Tethys took Poseidon and Hera to Samos, Themis hid Hestia on Cythera, and Hecate took Demeter and me into the ether so she could hide us everywhere and nowhere all at once."

"My mother never said _anything_ about— Hecate took _both_ of you?" Persephone ran her hand along his chest. No one had ever told her this. She leaned into him, eager to hear about a history that had been kept from her, secrets that her mother had shied away from when she asked too many questions as a young girl.

"She was our teacher; our priestess. Hecate is still my greatest mentor— more of a mother to me than Rhea ever was." _I shouldn't be telling this story._ He stroked Persephone's arm and wondered if he should continue. She needed to hear his past and if he didn't tell her now, he would have to answer these same questions if she spoke with Hecate. He had trusted her with it this far. "Your parents were deeply in love with each other from the moment Demeter was rescued by Zeus. Nine years of bloody fighting passed before it was safe enough for the six of us to meet on Olympus. We gathered to draw up plans for how we should end the war and what would become of us once it was over. We didn't come to any kind of an agreement. As far as I'm concerned only one good thing ever came out of that first meeting— you were conceived that night."

Persephone looked down. She had been told that part, at least. It was the part Demeter would talk about most— how the young rebel god had caught her as she fell from Cronus; how he had fallen in love with her the moment she landed in his arms, shaking and blinded by the daylight; how his was the first face she had seen since the darkness, his youthful mop of golden hair shining in the sun. Demeter told her how Zeus fell in love with her first out of all beings— that they waited for each other after he freed her. "She told me that part at least; she always told that story. But never any of the other… details. Mostly because she said I was too young to hear about romantic love."

"That's a pity," Aidon turned toward her, "because then you would know about how your mother crept up on the sleeping Iapetos and tried to steal his spear."

"What?!"

"Oh, she was very brave," he said. _Brave and foolish_, he thought.

"Why did she do it?"

"Because Zeus started… turning his affections elsewhere." He caught her stilled hand in his and looked down at her. "I'm sorry."

"Why? I mean, it's sweet of you to consider my feelings, but I'm all too familiar with those stories. You don't need to protect me from them," she scoffed. She masked her pain well, and must have masked it for centuries, but Aidon could hear the hurt in her voice. "His infidelities are nothing new."

_Is this why you cannot fully open your heart to me, _Aidon thought,_ because you think I'll be like him?_ He massaged her palm and wrist in his hand. "She was trying to win him back with an act of bravery. Demeter was already carrying you, loved you— grabbed my hand once and pressed it to her womb so I could feel you kicking at her. We hadn't become the Olympians yet, and all six of us were more or less fighting individually for our own survival. She 'borrowed' my helm in the dead of night and went to the heart of Mount Othrys itself, not knowing that its invisibility only works for others if I explicitly allow them to use it. She took the spear, but Iapetos woke and saw Demeter run away into the ether with his favorite weapon. She led him straight to me."

"What did you do?"

"What could I have done? I woke up to Demeter flying at me through the ether with the deadliest Titan on her heels. 'Aidon, forgive me! Save my daughter!' she screamed. I pulled the three of us from the ether into Chthonia, where I had allies. Hecate and Nyx gathered up Demeter, and I met Iapetos at the river Phlegethon.

"I _had_ him; I was about to push him into the Pit, but I forgot to keep an eye on his other hand. He plunged his knife into my leg here," he said indicating the raised, jagged scar above his knee, "and I lost my footing. Hecate took my helm from Demeter and pushed it to me through the ether. I put it on just as his sword was about to come down on me and disappeared, rolling out of his reach. But if I moved again, he would be able to hear me."

"How did you escape?"

"I didn't. Your father came charging in on his chariot, bellowing in rage, eager to defend your mother with the lightning he had just been given. The cacophony distracted Iapetos enough that I could rise to my feet. But with my helm on, Zeus couldn't see me standing in front of the Titan. If he used the lightning, he would have struck _me_ down instead of Iapetos, and despite being in tremendous pain, I had to act quickly."

Aidon paused and looked down at Persephone, enraptured by his story, and didn't know how to continue. He had never told these things to anyone before. Everyone he knew was in the war fighting alongside him.

"Don't hold back," she whispered. "Tell me."

"I took off his head."

She shuddered against him, her eyes wide. He felt her hand trail along his chest and her thigh squirm over his.

"One clean stroke. We threw him into Tartarus. When it was done, Hecate had your father, your mother and me take an oath and drink from the river Styx. We began the alliance of the Olympians that very moment by sealing yours and my betrothal."

"Did Iapetos die?"

"He can't; Iapetos is a deathless god. He's chained down there with the others, but can only speak in whispers now. Your father and I went to Tartarus to make sure Iapetos stayed there, and won the alliance of the Hundred Handed Ones. Given their… history… with Cronus, they agreed with pleasure to become the Titans' jailers."

Persephone looked at him. "I want you to take me there to meet them."

"No."

"But—"

"Persephone, speaking to the Hundred Handed Ones and seeing them are two different things. These are beings that can _subdue gods_. And there are other ancient horrors in Tartarus that you shouldn't see— that no one should ever see."

She had drawn the power to reach into the ether from Tartarus itself— had watched terror sweep across Aidon's face when she opened the gateway and looked back at him. _Ancient horrors._ Was that what she was becoming? "Aidon, I need to know why they called to me; why they knew me. What am I? Am I… a _thing_ from the Pit?"

"No, my love, of course not," he said drawing her into his arms. "Why would you ever think that?"

"They called me 'She Who Destroys the Light'."

"But, sweet one, that's what 'Persephone' means in the old tongue."

She froze in fear. Was she cursed? She had been carrying that name all her life, though few ever called her that. The only one who had ever done so with any regularity was holding her right now. An invisible weight started crushing her chest. "Is that why my mother called me Kore, hid me, and kept me ignorant of you? ...of all of this? Because she knew that if I came here I would become…"

She didn't finish, her voice cracking. Aidon hushed her and held her as she shook. He kissed her forehead, and smoothed his arms down her back. The world above was cold and dark without her in it. He wasn't about to tell her that. Besides, Demeter was to blame for that, not Persephone. Her mother would stop this nonsense soon enough. If not, Zeus would stop it for her.

"They called me Praxidike."

"It means 'justice'."

"It means 'vengeance'," she countered.

"It's the same thing."

"No, it's not!"

"Sweet one," he said, turning to kiss her on the cheek as they lay side by side. Aidon laid his head on the pillow beside hers and looked into her eyes, watched her tears spill out and spread on the pillow. "There is nothing— _nothing_ evil about you. You shine like a light down here. The reason I won't let you go to Tartarus isn't because I think you'll become one with the Pit. It's because you're my consort and queen. You are my wife. I'm sworn to protect you and would never forgive myself if he— if anything happened to you down there."

She looked up at him as he took her cheek in his hand and brushed her tears away.

"I love you, Persephone."

She looked away, fresh tears brimming in her eyes, unsure of how to respond to him.

He closed his eyes and pulled her closer, whispering in her ear. "You don't have to say anything right now, sweet one."

She shivered against him as his breath tickled her ear and neck. Hiding her growing feelings for him would soon be impossible. Persephone could feel the same energy she called up from the earth flowing freely between them right now. She knew he could feel it too. The reverberations of it raced and wound their way through each other as though their very souls were merging. "What if there _is_ something wrong with me? What if I'm an evil thing?"

He pulled back from her with a smile, his gaze traveling the length of her body. He ran his hand over her waist and slowly down her thigh. "If there were any evil part of you, I surely would have discovered it by now, no?"

Persephone blushed hot and tilted her face toward his. She kissed him, his hands running across her body, his flesh quickening between them.

"Of course," he said with playful eyes and half a smile, "I could look again."

* * *

**Author's Note:**_ I… think you see where this is going. As a supplemental warning, you may want to avoid the next couple of chapters __if scenes of sensuality disturb you.__ Which is a pity, because that and plot are heavily intertwined... just like our principal characters ;) _

_I'm glad everyone is enjoying this story. I love the heartfelt feedback, and continue to be amazed at the positive comments and valid criticisms. Cheers to all, and I hope I can maintain this momentum while I busy myself with wedding prep and massive amounts of sewing. Come back next Wednesday for a new chapter of Receiver of Many!_

_κατά Χθωνία_


	20. Chapter 19

She giggled and felt him draw away from her, crouching at her feet. He lifted one foot and then the other, running his hands from her toes to her calves and peppering her feet and ankles with kisses.

"No evil here," he said, smiling up at her. He ran his hands up her legs, and across her thighs, kissing the back of her knees.

Persephone squealed, surprised that she was sensitive there. She felt the heat of his kiss shoot up her spine and bucked as he held her steady. Amusement crept over his face at her reaction.

Aidon turned his attention to her hands, massaging her palms while Persephone sighed and sank deeper into the pillows. He planted a kiss on each knuckle and then sucked one finger after the other into his mouth, her breathing growing ragged. "None here," he whispered.

His hands, then his mouth moved up her arms to her shoulder. She shuddered when he reached her neck and gasped when he arrived at her breasts. He gathered the liquid flesh in his palms and she moaned as his fingers and tongue alternated back and forth between each peak.

"None here," he rasped between them with a last kiss placed over her heart. Aidon knelt between her legs and kissed down her stomach. She felt him grip her lower back, then her thighs, lifting and tilting her backward and drawing the back of her knees over his shoulders until at last he was facing his destination.

He looked into her heavily lidded eyes, then kissed below her navel and above the line of her dark curls. "And certainly none here."

"Aidon…" she whispered.

She gasped and watched his mouth move lower, kissing along her hip bone and the inside of her thigh. "Wait, Aidon, I don't know if you should—" Her words were lost and her shy resistance to where he kissed her next wore off very quickly.

Aidon's eyes rolled back and closed, his senses filling with her heady taste and scent. Every kiss, every nibble and every hum of adoration that vibrated into her flesh made her body twist and her voice cry out for him. Gods, why hadn't he thought to do this sooner?

Persephone couldn't think, couldn't breathe. Every ripple of his tongue drove a new wave of pleasure through her, arching her back, rushing up her spine as he hungrily kissed and drank her essence. Persephone wanted to cry out his name, but had lost her ability to form words some ways back. Now she hovered at the precipice, singularly aware that this time felt different. The room started to tilt back and fall away.

She felt him shift her body forward and softly enter her with two fingers. His fingertips searched carefully for the spongy ridges of flesh he'd been told to find, and when they reach their goal, he felt her hips rock and heard her voice cry out. She came with a scream, her channel pulsing wildly against his hand. He stroked through her, mimicking the motions of their lovemaking and prolonging her pleasure.

Aidon flexed his arm around her to steady her as she undulated, her head thrown back against the sheets. He slowly pulled away from her and delivered one last light kiss below her navel, bringing her back and legs to rest on the bed before he shifted to lie next to her. Persephone opened her eyes to see Aidon run his hand hard over his mouth and the point of his beard. He brought it up and carefully licked each of his fingers, humming in pleasure as if he were drinking the last ambrosia in existence. She stared up at him wordlessly as he fitted his body next to hers.

"And now I'm convinced," he said breathlessly and licked his lips with a smile, "that every last bit of you is good and beautiful."

She breathed through a grin and closed her eyes once more, unable to move. "That was… How did you…"

Aidon smiled silently as his hand glided along the light sheen of sweat covering her neck and breasts. She glowed in the lamplight. Persephone saw him position his arm at the side of her head, ready to move over her and fill her once more.

"Wait."

He stopped.

"My turn."

His eyes glazed over at her meaning and he exhaled long and low as she turned toward him. Aidon lay on his back, silently swearing to himself that he wouldn't stop her. Every inch of him wanted to take her under him this very moment and join their flesh as deeply and thoroughly as he possibly could. Instead, he watched Persephone kiss his chest, moving her hands over his shoulders and tensed arms.

She stared at one of his flat nipples then darted her tongue out, listening to him hiss through his teeth as his entire body quaked. That was unexpected for both of them. Veins pulsed under the skin of his forearms and his knuckles turned white from clenching his fists. Persephone knew then that he was using every bit of will not to take her then and there. She would have to revisit them later. Greater temptations awaited her.

She kissed over Aidon's stomach and heard him sigh, allowing himself to relax against her careful exploration. She ran her hands carefully down the path of coarse hair that started at his navel, not touching his most sensitive flesh just yet. He drew his legs slightly apart so she could kneel between them.

Persephone stroked her hands up his inner thighs. She cradled the soft globes of flesh at their juncture that felt vulnerable and potent all at once. Aidoneus exhaled sharply as her fingers trailed up the ridge of his shaft, then groaned when her hand wrapped around its base. She stroked upward, lifting it off his stomach as he shut his eyes. The skin was softer than she imagined, almost delicate, a surprising contrast with the powerful hardness underneath. She gently pulled it back and heard him sigh, his back arching forward. She recognized that reaction, and wanted so badly to give him the same pleasure he had just given her. She ran her thumb over the head and felt the drop at its tip slick over the crown's uneven edges, filling her with an irrepressible urge to taste him.

Persephone brought her lips down. Aidoneus felt himself straining closer to her waiting mouth. She smiled and stopped for a moment, faintly remembering something Hecate had said just after she arrived, and looked up at him with a playful glint in her eyes. "Aidon?"

"Yes, love?" he said, his own eyelids heavy with passion.

"I won't be trapped here, will I?"

"What?" His forehead was etched in lines of strained confusion. "What do you mean?"

She gave him a half smile. "Well, if you eat the fruits of the Underworld…"

"But, sweet one, 'fruits of the Underworld' are the asphodel roots out in th—" He stopped as a smile curved his mouth upward, understanding her meaning. The laugh started deep in his throat, his entire body shaking forward. He brought his hand up to his forehead and smoothed his hair back. It sounded unnatural yet beautiful to her, as though such a sound never before existed.

"What?" she said in mock innocence.

"No, sweet one," he laughed, "I don't think _that _counts."

She watched his chest and stomach clench again in another laugh, his eyes squinting against his smile. He stopped and breathed a sigh, looking up at her tenderly.

"You've never laughed like that before," she said quietly.

"No," he breathed, "I don't think I've laughed like that in my entire life."

She returned his smile. "Really?"

"I never had cause to," he said softly, sitting up and staring into her eyes. He looked to where her hand still rested.

She squeezed him, and his eyes glazed over once more. He rested back on his wrists and tipped his head forward to watch her. She licked her lips, feeling him tense, then descended, tasting the salt and warm spice of his flesh. Persephone felt his hand reach softly into her hair as she enveloped him. His breath came out in ragged bursts when she darted her tongue across the crown. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the fabric of the bed sheets crumpling in his other fist and smiled, knowing that she was bestowing the same gift of pleasure on him that he had just given her.

Aidon was dying. Rational thought left him when her hand closed around him, then her lips, then her tongue, then the hot touch of the back of her throat. Her lips dragged upward with straining pressure before descending once more. Her rhythm reflected his when he made love to her. It became all consuming, pressure building and ready to burst. He felt himself edging toward the point of no return.

"Stop, stop! Persephone, please…"

"Did I hurt you?" She looked at him, her face falling. "Did I do something wrong?"

"No! No, _far_ from it. I just—" he ached for her, veins throbbing under his skin, pulsing his desire for her. He needed to look into her eyes once more. "I need to be inside you, my love. Please…"

She sat up and moved over him as he tilted upward. Her body crashed against his chest and she brought her legs over his hips to straddle his lap. This wasn't how he'd planned to take her, but her advances were very welcome, nonetheless. Aidon drew her into his embrace, his tongue searching hers out in a kiss, his hands tangling in her hair. He reached under her and lifted her up, crossing his legs in front of him while she wrapped hers behind his back. He had dreamed of making love to her this way since they first met in Eleusis, but in the three weeks he'd spent coupling with her in near silence, he wouldn't have even known how to suggest it.

Persephone reached between them, guiding him to her entrance. With a swift thrust, Aidoneus was inside her. He broke off their kiss and kept his eyes open, face to face with her, watching her gasp, feeling her shudder in his arms as her channel stretched once more around him. Aidon held her hips steady so he could guide their lovemaking. His movements became slow and stilled when her eyes opened to his again. If he went any faster it would be over too soon. He needed this to last as long as possible, to experience the love he knew she felt but still could not voice to him. He needed to show her that it was safe to open up to him fully. Persephone shifted in his arms, frustrated and mewling for him to go faster.

"Aidon—"

"Not yet…" he whispered.

"—please…"

"Shh… Persephone…"

He ran his hands across her back, soothing her until she calmed and came back to him. Persephone felt every sweet sensation of their union, surrounded and surrounding, supported, blissful. Aidon took his time, trailing his lips over her skin, one arm wrapped around her waist as the other wound its way through her hair at the nape of her neck. The last barriers she held against his full possession of her seemed almost strange now, and she could feel herself edging closer to those three fateful words that he longed to hear from her.

Her hands rested on his back and wound their way into his hair, pulling him forward. He held her between her shoulder blades and sped up, their foreheads tilted together, eye to eye, breathing in unison, feeling every pulse through and around each other. Every sinew in her body from the arches of her feet to the back of her neck tightened once again. She tilted her head back in pleasure.

"I want to look into your eyes when you come," Hades rasped, gently pulling on the roots of her hair to guide Persephone's gaze back to his. "Let me see you."

She felt her face then her entire body clench as she struggled to keep her eyes open for him, seeing the image of her own ecstasy in the strain on his face. A vein coursed over his forehead under beads of sweat, and his face flushed with pleasure. He gasped his completion staring directly at her. Arching forward, she cried out as he cried out, her lips parted wordlessly as his were, face to face, staring into each other. When the intensity overwhelmed them, they fell against one another, arms and legs entangled. Aidon stroked the long waves of hair matted to her back and stayed within her as she brought her knees back to the side of his hips and fell limp against his chest.

He tilted their spent bodies back and fell against the pillows, locked together as they stretched their legs out. He softened, she slowly released him and in the absence of her most intimate embrace, Aidoneus brought his arms tightly around Persephone, holding her to his chest and kissing the top of her head.

He doused the lights instantly, too exhausted to bother gesturing as he usually did. His eyes closed and he draped his wrist across her back. Aidoneus held her to him, and stroked her hair. "I love you, sweet one. I love you… My Persephone, I love you. I love you, I love you…"

Her eyes stayed open, listening to him whisper the words over and over. They faded and slurred as he drifted off, his chest rising and falling under her head. Hades' words rang in her ears while he fell into a sleep deeper than he'd had in aeons. His breathing was peaceful and measured. Hers was not. Persephone lay awake, her mind repeating his susurrations endlessly— words that she still could not say to him, no matter how badly she wanted to. Exhaustion and the sound of his heartbeat finally lulled her into sleep and dreams.

_They burst. Wound against one another, tangled and embraced, they burst in six-pointed flames of red against the life-giving leaves. Their forms were gentle: delicate and temporary. Each petal opened against the air, vulnerable and tender. Their centers unfurled. They waited._


	21. Chapter 20

_It could be like this_, she thought, waking up in the crook of his arm.

Persephone watched the rise and fall of his chest as he slept peacefully. The thoughts were hers, but in her mind, his voice spoke the words. _Open yourself to me— love me— be my wife, and it could be like this for all eternity._

Aidoneus had found a permanent place in her heart yesterday. Persephone didn't know if it was love, but she longed to say the words she knew he wanted to hear— words that would bind her soul to him forever. She wondered if the mysterious trees in the garden were blooming just as they were in her dream. She nuzzled against Aidon, tempted to wake him up and walk with him out to the grove. Perhaps her dream matched his once more; the proof would be hundreds of red flowers, their soft petals gilding every branch.

Persephone looked up at his peaceful face. She had never seen him asleep before. He had always waited for her to fall asleep first, and was already gone before she awoke. If he slept as little as he said, she guessed that this was the first time he'd slept through the night in centuries. Aeons, even.

Very carefully, Persephone sat up and looked around, their passion-scattered clothing strewn about the room. She leaned over to pick up one of her sandals by the straps and set it by its mate, then got up and folded her chiton, quietly placing it on the chair next to the table. Persephone saw his himation lying in a heap on the floor and sighed contentedly, remembering when he had placed it over her freezing shoulders in the cypress grove without any hesitation. Its edges were soft in her hands as she stretched her arms wide to unfurl and shake out its long length.

Persephone heard the muffled clink of metal on the floor and glanced at Aidon. He slumbered still, undisturbed by the noise. She turned over the fabric. A long gold fibula was fastened and hidden within its folds— a strange place to wear one. She drew out one side and peered closer. Were those quills? Persephone pulled the other end out and held up a golden arrow the length of her forearm.

_What you saw wasn't true love, it was just lust._

She put her hand over her mouth in disbelief. Why did he have this? Her mind spun between her mother's warnings about men and Aidon's whispered declarations of love from the previous night. She thought about the many sweet things the Eleusinian man had said to his wife in the wedding tent after they coupled. Then about her father's many lovers.

_They were pricked by Eros, and their love will die someday._

"Never mind about the clothes, Persephone…"

She gasped and turned her head toward his voice.

"Come back to bed, sweet one… I want to make love to you while it's light outside."

Persephone faced him, the arrow behind her back. Aidoneus was lying against the pillows, smiling at her. His hands were folded behind his head and she shuddered as her eyes followed contours of smooth muscle and the line of his hip to the fabric pulled up just above his navel. Unbidden, the coil tightened in her stomach. Her response to him yesterday and even now was so sudden and overpowering. Had he pricked her with the arrow?

"What's the matter, my love?"

Persephone brought the golden arrow out from behind her back. Aidon's expression quickly shifted from bliss to his usual mask of solemnity, but couldn't hide his panic as his eyes wide and his lips pursed together. _ Of all times, Fates, why did she find it now?!_ he thought, then closed his eyes and smoothed his hand back through his hair, his forehead etched with frustration.

"What is this?" she said quietly.

"Persephone, it's very dangerous. Please—"

"Answer my question! I asked you: 'what is this?!'" she said, raising her voice. "How long have you had this? Is this— is this the only reason you—"

"No! It's not," he tried to cajole her. "Please put it down and let me explain—"

"Explain what? This is a golden arrow, Aidoneus. There's only one being who shoots these!"

He sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed, the sheets still pooled in his lap. "Before I came to you the first time, I went to Olympus to speak with your father about taking you as my wife. After he consented, Eros tried to shoot me in the heart, but I caught the arrow before it reached its target."

"I know how these work!" she said angrily. "One only has to be scratched—"

"And I was!" he snapped back at her, momentarily raising his voice to her level. He tried to calm himself and regain his composure. "But it doesn't work like—"

"You pricked me with it last night, didn't you?! To make me fall in love with you!" Her eyes widened in panic once the words left her mouth. Persephone froze.

"Oh?" Aidoneus said quietly. He hadn't even entertained the idea of pricking her with the arrow. After Eros had loosed his bow, he'd kept the cursed thing with him so the emotions that had tortured him ever since wouldn't befall anyone else. But Persephone had just admitted she loved him. Aidon held his breath and waited.

Persephone looked away, unable to breathe as she realized what she had just revealed. Every moment she stood here saying nothing would just confirm his suspicions. She tried to look at anything in the room but the man sitting on her bed.

He watched as she twisted, knotting his forehead. Why couldn't she have just said something, anything, during their tender moments last night? Maybe she was scared and looking for the right moment to tell him. A hopeful, vulnerable smile teased the corner of his mouth. "Is that what you feel for me, then?"

"Just answer my question!"

"The answer is NO, Persephone!" Her anger sliced through him, and he felt something constrict in his chest. "I thought I'd already made it clear to you by my actions that I would never use trickery to have you." Surely she remembered how he had refused her advances when her memories had been washed away by the Lethe— when the girl that was Kore told him that she loved him…

"Then why were you carrying it this whole time?!"

"Because it's dangerous! Just hand it over."

"You didn't answer my question!"

"I just _did_. You think I carried it with me to bend you to my will? The exact opposite is true! The only reason I carried it with me is because I didn't want you or _anyone _to be accidentally influenced by its power."

"Then you admit that you only… love me… because of this?"

"No! That's not how it works. It only made me _aware_ that I've loved you since…"

"Since when?"

He stayed silent, searching his memory for the moment that he first felt anything for her. Nyx and Hecate may have persuaded him that it was time to claim her on the night of the full moon, reminded him that she'd been a woman for many centuries. But Aidoneus had thought about her, felt _something_ for her long before he'd ever visited her dreams in Eleusis. Despite there being a few dozen Lampades nymphs in his kingdom who, thanks to Thanatos' philandering, had proven themselves very willing to take lovers, he'd never so much as glanced at one of them. He had always attributed his avoidance of them to his somber self-control, and to his own pretense that unlike the other gods, he operated above the level of baser instinct. But the truth had always gnawed at him— he was a man with needs as much as anyone else. Leuce, a nymph that once lived amidst the white poplar trees in his garden, had tried to seduce him early in his reign, only to be immediately rebuffed. He could have used her body in a moment of lust, or kept her as a companion to ease his self-imposed solitude. She had even suggested as much. Yet, he didn't want anything to do with her. Nor any of the others who saw his place in the cosmic order as a prize to be claimed, or regarded his celibacy as a challenge to be conquered.

Aidoneus only dreamed of Persephone. Demeter, joyous in conceiving a child by Zeus, had once grabbed Aidon's hand and placed it on her womb to feel the tiny life move about within her. He remembered drawing back in surprise as a jolt traveled up his arm, filling his mind with an augury of a future he couldn't begin to comprehend and a startling vision of the three Fates pointing at him. Before she was even born, he'd beheaded Iapetos to save her. When he stood in Demeter's home at the end of the war to remind her of their agreement and the infant Kore started crying, he had only wanted to comfort and protect her. He'd felt love for her swell in his chest, though he hadn't known what had struck him so profoundly that day until now. Aidoneus had left his kingdom for the first time since that night to be gawked at by the Olympian gods in order to ask for her.

The string of epiphanies hit him so hard he sat awestruck, almost forgetting that this same woman, whom he had loved and would love forever, was in the room right now. And she was very angry with him.

"You can't even answer me," she scoffed, frustrated by his silence. "All you've done since the beginning is evade my questions."

"The beginning of _what_, exactly?" he said, snapping back into the moment, alarmed. He was losing her…

"The moment I met you! When you came to me in the dream, I asked you who you were. You turned it around and asked me who I _thought_ you were. It angered me then and it angers me still!"

"You know I couldn't have told you then, and you know the reason why! Demeter would have hid you from me if you told her, no matter how innocently, that Hades had come for you. I was trying to introduce myself to you slowly. Would you rather I just took you below the earth right then and made myself known to you for the first time once we arrived?"

She stood tall and narrowed her eyes. "Well, isn't that what you ended up doing?"

"That was _not_ how I wanted to—"

"But you did! You _did_, Aidoneus! You abducted me from Nysa and took my maidenhead on the way to the Underworld! I don't care how much you wanted it to be different, _that was_ _it_!"

He winced, knowing she was right. He couldn't give back what he had taken from her. And when his thoughts lingered too long on their first time, he didn't want to. He tried to resist the memories of the moment he'd made her his, finally feeling whole and complete when he was within her.

"That's what happened," she continued, fighting back her own memories, "and it stands as another example of how you can't ever speak plainly to me about _why _you did it."

"I _can't_ answer that for you. We've been over this!"

"And why not?"

"Because any answer I give might harm you as much as it will harm our marriage."

"Oh, speak plainly to me, Aidon! I am not Charon; I am not Hecate. I am your _wife_! And I am tired of riddles and partial truths and evaded questions even as you continually ask me to trust you. You make it impossible for me to love you!" She saw his eyes flash with hurt and anger.

"You want me to speak plainly, my lady? Fine! If I didn't take you, and _take_ you in every sense of the word, your mother would have eternally rooted you to the earth to keep you from me!" Persephone gaped at him in shock. He paused, but it was too late to take it back, and his voice hitched as he continued. "The only way she could have done it is if you were still a virgin. You would have lived the rest of your days like the nymph Daphne unless I acted. Is that what you wanted to hear?"

She clutched her hands around her naked body, backing away. "My mother would never— you're a liar! I can't believe I ever let you touch me! You're a_ liar!_"

"And now you know why I didn't tell you!" he bellowed back at her, matching her volume. Any urge to hold her and comfort her was overridden by anger— anger at Demeter, at his wife's obstinacy, anger at the destruction of any chance he'd ever had to begin their life together peacefully. "Honestly, Persephone! If I was going to fill you with lies, wouldn't it have been easier for me to do so from the start? Instead of suffer through _this?!_" he said gesturing at her.

Persephone's mouth was dry, her eyes wet and aching as though acid were about to spill out instead of tears. She blinked them back again.

"Let me speak plainly to you again." His voice wavered. "I did it because I love you! I've cursed myself every day for how it had to be done. But if I hadn't, you would have been lost to me forever."

Unwanted heat flooded into her again at the memory of him whispering in her ear, her legs twined around him in the dark. She turned her anger at her traitorous body back at him. "If that's the truth, then you weren't afraid of losing _me_, Aidoneus! You were afraid of losing your claim over me. All I am, all I ever was to you is a fulfillment of a contract."

"Listen to me again very carefully, Persephone. I. Love. You. Whatever oath I made with your parents has nothing to do with what I feel for you!"

"But you could have had these feelings for _anyone_ as long as they were already bound and betrothed to you! The only reason you took me here as your bride was to perpetuate your eternal pissing contest with my mother!"

He gritted his teeth. "You don't know what you're saying."

"Yes I do! And how exactly do you know what _you're_ saying anyway? You're under the golden arrow's spell! Without it you would have never felt anything for me, you wouldn't have fallen in love with me, or… whatever it is you feel right now! Eros needed to shoot you with _this_ before you'd even contemplate bedding me, much less loving me," she said, thrusting the arrow before his eyes in her clenched fist.

"How can you even think these things," he shouted at her, his face reddening, "when I bare my soul you time and again? When you _know_ what is in my heart?!"

"THIS was the only thing that ever found its way into your heart!" she screamed back, throwing the arrow at him. It skipped across the floor and spun, coming to a stop at his feet. Aidon threw the sheet off and stood up, stepping over the golden arrow. She shrunk toward the columns next to the door.

"Enough of this! I am tired of scraping for your affections, Persephone. What more do I have to say before you will believe me?!" Aidoneus strode toward her quickly and deliberately until he loomed over her. "And tell me this, _wife_— why do you give half a thought to whether or not I truly love you in the first place? We wouldn't even be having this argument if you didn't love me! Tell me!"

"Well, _my lord husband_," she said chewing on the last words, "that's rather presumptuous of you, don't you think?"

He narrowed his eyes and smirked at her. "Now who's evading questions?"

"As you evade mine in the same breath!" she said, balling her fists.

He drew intimately close to her and lowered his voice. "Fine. I do presume, _wife_. I know that you love me, Persephone, because I can _feel_ it. I can feel it whenever I'm in your presence. Even now, through your anger, when I look into your eyes— I feel it. I can feel it when I speak to you, when I hold you, when I touch you, when I'm inside you. Deny it all you want, but if you felt nothing, then you wouldn't have shown me such tenderness last night."

"It's not as if I feel _nothing_ for you," she said under her breath, averting her eyes as he came within inches of her. She felt her body shudder at his closeness, her heart beating fast.

"Then what do you feel? Look at me." He lifted her chin roughly. "Look at me! Look into my eyes and tell me you don't love me!"

Her blue gray eyes met his, then filled with tears as she turned away from him.

"That's what I thought," he sneered and stepped back.

"How can you possibly expect me to love you?!" she spat back at him. "You've kept me prisoner here and you'll never treat me as anything more than your bedmate! You say you 'lay all you rule at my feet' but they're just _words_! Sweet, condescending words to keep me pliant!"

"I meant every word of what I said to you! And at this point I'll do anything to convince you! What is it that you _want _from me, Persephone? Name it!"

She took a deep breath. "I am She Who Destroys the Light and I want to know why the Hundred Handed Ones knew me by name."

He closed his eyes, realizing too late that he'd walked right into this one. She was about to trap him with the one thing he could never give her. Aidoneus glared at her again and pursed his lips, knowing full well where this was going.

"I want to know why the pathway I opened to the ether was surrounded by the Phlegethon. I want to know what I am and why I am here! _I want you to take me to Tartarus_!"

He stood in front of her silently. Unnerved, Persephone inched up to sit on the column relief as far from him as she could get without bolting the room. Aidoneus closed those same few inches with another step forward, his body magnetically pulled toward hers. He stayed there until she looked up into his eyes once more then spoke slowly, his voice rasping in anger. "You have no idea what you ask of me. You think that Tartarus is just another new place to wander into, and that I'll be able to casually rescue you if you get into trouble as I did when you ran into the Lethe. I assure you— it's not."

"Why not let me see that for myself?"

"Why?! To see how fatally perilous it is even for gods?! I'm not taking you there!" he shouted at her, watching her flinch in fear.

"Then you've proved me right, Aidoneus!" she shot back at him. "Your pretty words mean _nothing_! All you want is to dress me up to look like a queen, without any power or consequence whatsoever, and lock me away in your palace!"

"If that were in any way true," he fumed, trying to control his anger, "then why for Fates' sake would I have spent yesterday showing you our realm from the Styx? Why would I have gone out of my way to take you to Nysa last night?!"

"You gave me a taste of what I could be, what I am supposed be, and then pulled it away from me! For that, you're worse than Demeter!" She saw his eyes widen in shock as she compared him to his enemy. For that's what her mother was, Persephone realized, if his accusations against her held any truth. She looked up at his clenched jaw, the stone column cold and unyielding against her back, his body looming over hers. And she felt pulled toward him, and knew he felt the same thing. She shivered. Her voice faltered as she continued. "At least my mother had the decency to keep me _completely_ unaware."

Hades gritted his teeth and slammed his hand against the column, the smack of his palm echoing through the room. He narrowed his eyes at her and stilled for a moment before he spoke low, struggling to abate his anger. "Your mother kept you an ignorant girl because she needed the eternal devotion your father could never give her. And once she knew for certain that I had come to you— that she would lose you to me— she decided to obliterate everything that made you what you were. I saved you; I gave you freedom and knowledge, and made you into a woman when I took you here to be my queen. Don't make me regret that."

"You don't want a queen, you want a _whore!_ All you want is for me to lie on my back and spread my legs for you!"

Once she said it, they became acutely aware of their proximity to each other. Persephone looked down at his hips parting her knees. Her breath hitched. Aidoneus looked away, biting his lip in anger, his body responding to her closeness. The air hummed around them, the space between them alive and closing. She saw his muscles tense as he fought to restrain himself. Persephone shuddered, unable to back away any further— and didn't want to. All each could hear was the other's shallow breathing. He stood there, silently cursing himself, cursing her, every fiber of his being screaming to be inside her.

Aidoneus closed the gap between them and grasped her by the nape of her neck, tilting her head up, his fingers catching and lacing through her hair. Coiled lust made him tighten his grip, and a short cry from deep in her throat nearly undid him. He stopped an inch from her face, eye to eye with his wife. He tried to ignore the sensation of her thighs trembling and twitching around his hips and the scent of opening lilies rising from her skin. His breath came out in pants against his ragged words. "I should have never brought you here. My life was ordered; it made sense before you threw it into pandemonium. And when you do spread your legs for me, Persephone, when you welcome me inside your body, you turn me into a fool— an idiot— that thinks you are capable of loving me."

Persephone watched him shiver with a barely restrained need that mirrored her own. She brought her hand up to lightly trace along the straining muscles of his arm. He brushed his other hand over her hair, cupping the back of her head. Her lips moved against his with a whisper. "Hades…"

He crushed his lips against hers so hard it flattened her against the column behind her. The shock of the freezing marble against her bare back made her shriek and arch toward him. She heard him grunt into her mouth as his knuckles grated on the stone behind her head. Persephone raked her fingernails down the solid wall of his chest, leaving a trail of raw lines on his skin. Their tongues battled for dominance as he possessively mauled and bruised her lips. When Persephone caught his bottom lip between her teeth and pulled back, he hissed in pain. He broke away with a feral stare and ran his tongue over his lip, tasting blood.

"Persephone…" Aidoneus whispered, and pressed his body against hers, tension humming between them. His hand knotted in her hair, pulling her mouth up once more to accept his.

She locked her legs around his waist, tasting him. He dipped down to her exposed throat, then nipped at the flesh on her neck and shoulder, leaving a trail of rose blotches as he went. He delighted at her sharp intake of breath. Her fingernails bit hard into his skin, leaving reddened marks across his lower back. Filled equally with fury and delight, she whispered around punctuated gasps. "Better an idiot than the whore you've made out of me."

Aidoneus looked up and narrowed his eyes at her again. He locked his lips to hers to silence and taste her. Persephone sighed around his darting tongue. Her hand found an opening between their bodies and he groaned in surprise when she wrapped her fingers around his length, pulling the silken skin over the hardness underneath.

The pleasure forced him away from her red, swollen lips. His eyes squeezed shut as he tilted his head back and gasped. She relished his reaction to her. His hips involuntarily thrust toward her hand and he rested his head on her shoulder. She gripped him tighter, and he tensed. Aidon's breath poured hot over her breast, his voice just above a whisper. "Do not forget who you toy with. I am the eldest of the gods and I will not be made into a fool. Especially not by a mere slip of a girl."

"You're _my_ fool," she whispered into his ear, guiding him to her entrance.

He pulled back her hair and bit at her collarbone, feeling her undulate against him. "_And you are my whore,_" Hades growled.

She pulled him in effortlessly before he took over and slammed his hips into hers. His head leaned on her shoulder once they were fully joined and he gritted his teeth, groaning from low in his throat. Persephone lurched forward upon his withdrawal, and cried out when he pushed into her again. She locked herself around him, trapping him within and orchestrating his bliss, but grew lightheaded as he stirred about in the confines of her legs. Aidoneus read her face, her body, her intentions instantly, knowing that she was trying to drive him over the edge first. He narrowed his eyes at her. Pinning her back against the column with one arm, he reached above where they were joined, curling his lip triumphantly as she writhed, playing her game. Between sharp breaths, she wondered how often that look of wild victory had crossed his face during the war.

Unwilling to relent, Persephone fought against the cruel ecstasy and squeezed, bearing down as hard as she could. She watched with satisfaction as he threw his head back with a gasp. Her move managed to disentangle him and he thrust forward quickly. Persephone felt his arms wrap around her body, lifting her from the column. She crossed her ankles behind his waist for balance and held onto his shoulders as Hades took her in the same way he had first initiated her in the dark. His hips rolled against her thighs, each accompanying kiss hard, insistent and returned.

With long steps, he took them across the room to the bed and laid Persephone down at the edge, pushing her knees up to her shoulders in one fluid motion. Pleasure swelled into anger, anger melted into pleasure, forward and back again as they lost themselves in each other, both unrelenting. She refused to allow him to win— to prove that he possessed her body and spirit. She was so close to driving him to ecstasy first, his rhythm fevered and accelerating, the telltale vein prominent on his forehead. He hovered at the precipice.

Feeling Aidoneus wildly mating with her finally pushed Persephone past the point of no return and she screamed. She let the crashing waves carry her, shaking her body as she cried out. Her voice raced him toward his peak, shattering him.

"_Persephone!_"

Her name tore from his throat, drowning her cries. Lightheaded, he planted a hand beside her to steady himself. They gasped for air as they came back to the room and to each other, their eyes glazed over, their breathing falling into unison. Aidoneus exhaled a long shuddering sigh. Exhausted, his mouth twisted into a satiated smile.

"Well, sweet one," he crooned softly, "I can't think of a better way to forgiv—"

He barely registered the blur of her open palm in the corner of his eye. It cracked against his cheek. Aidon brought his hand over the stinging, reddening mark on his face in shock.

"Get out!" she cried.

Aidon pulled away from her and gaped at Persephone, still holding his cheek as he stepped back.

"GET OUT!" she screamed, sitting up.

He grabbed his himation and wound it loosely around his waist and shoulder. Aidon quickly gathered his effects, the rings and pins clinking in his hand as he swiped his tunic off the floor. She lay on her side crying, her face turned pointedly away from him, sobs muffled. Persephone hugged her knees to her chest, unwilling to even look at him. He felt sick.

The final piece lay at his feet— the golden arrow. He picked it up and threaded it back through the folds of his himation before walking to the door. Aidon turned to her one last time.

"Persephone…"

She didn't answer.

"Persephone, I'm—"

"Please leave," she said quietly around a sob.

It had all been undone. Everything he had shown her, everything they had shared yesterday, was now obliterated. Maybe he had been fooling himself, thinking that she could love him; maybe he really was a monster after all.

He stood by the door longer than he should have, listening to her cry and waiting in vain for Persephone to change her mind. He should have followed the first suggestion Thanatos had given him and not pursued her any further. It had only brought them heartache and pain. He fought back memories of her kissing him as she pressed her body against his back and caressed the wide scar he had shown to no one else. His eyes and throat stung.

Aidoneus finally shut the door, wondering if he would ever see the inside of this room again.


	22. Chapter 21

"Off with you, witch! We have no food here."

"I don't need food," the old woman said, "only a hearth to sleep beside."

"As you can see, we don't have that either; and certainly not for one of Demeter's hags."

Demeter glanced down at the telltale sheaves of barley on her himation, the same pattern worn by her priestesses. Behind the dark bearded man, she could see his household packing their belongings and placing coals in the bronze and hide carrier that would protect their hearth fire, praying to Hestia to spare the small flame from the cold on their journey. If it went out, it would portend death in the family. Death was everywhere these days.

"Where are you going?" Demeter asked.

"Ephyra. And if you have any sense in you, you'll go there too."

"When the Great Lady of the Harvest gets her Kore back from Hades she will—"

The door slammed in her face. Demeter tucked a white lock of hair behind her ear again and rubbed her boney fingers together for warmth. All the gods of Olympus had abandoned her. She had first gone to the depths of the sea and Poseidon's court. The price he had named for helping her was unthinkably lewd, the very idea of it an abomination. Demeter had practically run from his underwater palace, chased by the sound of his derisive laughter, wishing she could retch. She had wandered the frozen wastes of Hellas begging local gods and nymphs to help her get her daughter back, receiving no assistance. Most were too afraid of Hades Aidoneus to even speak with her.

Eleusis was her last retreat, and her only remaining hope. Surely her most devoted priestesses would come to her aid. But when she had returned to her temple, she had found no offerings but barren straw, and no sacrifices but a fetal lamb that was obviously dead long before it found its way to her altar. She stood by as the people of Eleusis escaped to Athens for warmth, or to Thebes for food— wherever the rumors of better circumstances took them. But Demeter had been everywhere. There was nothing left for them, and there wouldn't be until Zeus returned her daughter and ended her grief.

Everywhere she had gone she'd seen priests bleeding black sheep over open pits, averting their eyes as they did so. They made offerings to the Underworld, all of them begging the hard-hearted King of the Dead to return Kore to the earth, to end the famine and cold. They didn't bother to appeal to Demeter anymore.

Empty temples were something she could live with. She had suffered through empty temples when the people of Attica went to war, burning each other's fields a few centuries past and nearly razing Eleusis to the ground. But soon mortals started dismantling her temples altogether, taking the wood to burn in their homes for warmth. Then they burned her effigies in grief and anger as their children and elders died. How quickly they had turned when the food ran out; without their devotion, Demeter was weakened. Hades' abduction of her daughter had turned her hair white with grief. But while she ignored the prayers of Hellas, the sacking of her temples had aged her further, beyond even her own recognition. Her joints were stiff and ached in the cold. Her shoulders were hunched. She leaned heavily on an oak staff.

Demeter at last came to the final refuge she dared approach, which was also the place she most feared to set foot. Rumors from villages to the east had it that King Celeus would burn Demeter's priestesses alive for what she had done to his people. Immortal though she was, Demeter didn't relish the idea of burning. She was weaker now than ever— weaker than when Cronus spat her out all those aeons ago. It was so very cold. The great palace of Celeus, the Telesterion, loomed large before her, its wooden gates freshly cleared of snowdrifts. It was the only sign that someone still dwelled within. Demeter wrapped her hand around the cold bronze knocker and hammered it against the door three times.

Nothing.

The wind bit at her skin as she waited. She was about to reach for the knocker again when she heard the door begin to creak open, a dusting of snow falling from the cracks in its jamb high above her.

A tired looking woman dressed in the dark blue of mourning peered out, her gray-faded blonde hair falling loose and matted around her shoulders. She turned to speak to someone behind the door. "One of Demeter's wise women."

Demeter nodded a bow. It had been so long since she had been called anything but a witch. "I am at your service. My lady, I humbly seek shelter and the comfort of your hearth for the night."

"Are you a healer?"

"Yes, my lady."

"What is your name?"

Demeter thinned her lips. "Doso."

The door swung wide. She looked up to see a white bearded man dressed in dark blue standing next to the woman, a circlet of gold framing his balding head. King Celeus.

Demeter fell to her knees. "My lord, please spare me. I am but a humble servant of the Lady of the Harvest."

"Supplication doesn't suit you, Doso," he said grimly. "You have too noble a bearing about you."

"I do come from… a high born family, my lord."

"And where were you born?"

"Crete."

"Rise," he said. "If you are a healer, Doso, my wife and I welcome you."

"Then the tales about you—"

"Burning priestesses?" he snorted. "You must have traveled here from Athens."

"Yes, my lord. But the rumors…"

"People are saying all sorts of things these days," he said somberly. Celeus motioned her forward. "Come in from the cold, Doso, before we lose what little heat we've managed to keep in the hall."

Demeter leaned on her staff, pulling herself across the threshold. The heavy smell of pennyroyal and parsley wafted from a censer, and she knew at once that illness plagued their household. Wisps of fragrant smoke hung in the air, illuminated by the great fire in the hearth. It warmed her skin, its heat so inviting that she would have blissfully fallen asleep if she sat down. The great hall's marble columns were bridged by ancient tapestries that had been pulled from around the palace in a desperate attempt to seal the heat into this one room. The household shrine stood at the back of the hall, and Demeter could make out the mitered soot silhouette where her effigy once stood. Though it was barren, she could still feel the offerings that had been made to her. They flowed from the altar and into her bones with a heat that rivaled the hearth fire.

"The countryside is in a panic. It's not safe now, even for the king and queen, to openly keep the faith to the Great Lady. So many say she abandoned all the mortals to die," the woman said sadly. Demeter recognized her now, though she looked like she had aged ten years in this last month. Queen Metaneira spoke again. "Our servants are long since fled, the people of Eleusis are leaving us, and we're too weak to defend our own home from being sacked. Best to be more subtle, and not incite anyone."

"I understand," Demeter said. "I'm sure the Great Lady would understand as well. Bless you for keeping the faith."

Celeus shook his head. "We're among the last. So many of our friends have left for Argos, Knossos, Ephyra…"

"What is in Ephyra?"

"You haven't heard?"

"As you said, my lord," Demeter replied, "you hear all sorts of things these days."

"King Sisyphus has food there. His infamous greed during the harvests meant that his silos were full when the cold and famine struck. His ships come back laden with gold and slaves from the trade of even small amounts of it."

"Why has your house not joined in the exodus west?"

"Mighty Zeus will strike him down and curse all who dwell in his wicked city," Metaneira said angrily. "Sisyphus demands the worship and devotion of anyone who approaches the walls of Ephyra. And he takes the maiden daughters of the noble families. Calls himself a god king. The Receiver of Many will send him and his acolytes straight to Tartarus for his hubris."

"Metaneira!" Celeus shot at her. "I thought we agreed!" He turned to Demeter. "I apologize, priestess, for mentioning the Unseen One in your presence. We meant no offense."

Demeter smirked at their epithets for Aidoneus. "Why do you admonish your wife to keep He Who Has Many Names nameless, my lord?"

Celeus and Metaneira looked at the ground in silence. Metaneira's voice wavered when she finally spoke. "We were weak; we feared for our lives. We thought to appeal to him in our desperation, and if he wouldn't hear our prayers to return our people's beloved Kore, he would at least save us. Our prayers and sacrifices fell on deaf ears."

Demeter narrowed her eyes. "Trust me now when I tell you that no matter how hard you plead with him, Aid— the Unseen One will never hear you."

"We should never have called on him, Doso. He took so much from us."

"Yes, he did," Demeter said, her eyes stinging. "He will not take any more from you as long as I'm here. You said you needed a healer?"

Metaneira motioned her toward the fire, where a crib was set up and a couch was turned toward the flames. Demeter hobbled over and peered into the crib. An infant boy slept fitfully, murmuring and twisting in the throes of a fever, clearly given drops of barley beer to soothe and quiet him. She looked over to the couch and held her breath. A young man lay there, his brow beaded in sweat, dark circles under his eyes, his lips parched and cracked. He slept just as restlessly as the infant. Dusty blonde hair fell across his forehead. Even in his sickness he was strikingly handsome. Demeter felt a heaviness creep into her chest. The youth looked so much like Zeus did when she had first met him. When he still loved her.

"My lord husband and I had the fever as children and lived, so it didn't sicken us. But—"

The queen broke down, her words lost as she cried. Celeus wrapped an arm around her. "We'll see them again, my love. Some day."

"My daughters!" Metaneira cried. "Kallithoe… Kleisidike… little Deme… He took them last week! Maidens, all of them… Kallithoe was to marry in two weeks and I had to bury my eldest daughter in her bridal dress! Gods, why?!"

Demeter's mind turned to her Kore, drawing a thistle up from the fertile soil and dancing through the field with the little fiery copper butterfly. And then their world had collapsed around them. No levy could hold back her tears.

"Shhh, wife…" Celeus stroked her hair. He looked to Demeter, his own eyes watering. "Please help us, Doso. We've kept the faith alive in this house. Surely the Great Lady will show us _some_ measure of mercy and save my sons?"

"She will," Demeter said, rivulets pouring down her aged face. "Hades stole my daughter as well."

The king and queen shuddered at his name. Celeus spoke low. "Woman, you cannot call on him—"

"I do not fear him—" she said, raising her voice before she remembered that she was Doso, not Demeter, "—m-my lord. And I am through ceding ground to him. He will have no power over your sons; not as long as I'm here. I swear on the Styx they will not pass into his clutches as your daughters did!" She walked over to the youth and swiped his hair from his forehead. "Tend to your altar once more, my lords. My work is done through your offerings to the Great Lady. What are your children's names?"

"The infant is Demophon," Metaneira said, wiping her eyes with the sleeve of her mantle. "And this is Triptolemus. The Prince of Eleusis."

His eyelids fluttered, and Demeter lightly touched his forehead. "Triptolemus…"

He heard his name called and saw light once again. Triptolemus had turned away from it before, but it was so very close this time. Was he finally slipping away toward the realm of the Unseen One? Had Thanatos come to reap his soul and send him to the Other Side? He let out a sigh, wondering if this exhale was his last breath. At least he would see his sisters again. But when Triptolemus looked up, he didn't see a desiccated skeleton looming over him. Instead, a beautiful woman filled his vision, her long hair cascading from her golden diadem in rich waves of spun flax and copper. Her eyes were emerald green, and her chiton a brilliant red, emblazoned with golden barley. The light came from her. He smiled and passed back into unconsciousness as her soft hand stroked his forehead.


	23. Chapter 22

This was her last day as the Maiden. She stood taller, nearly flowered. Hecate could feel the impending shift to the Woman as surely as she had for a hundred aeons. She walked through the garden in her white peplos, her adolescent feet padding over the earth. She sensed the bursts of colorful blossoms at the garden's edge before she could even see them, felt the warmth of breathing life radiating from the six trees. They had taken a little less than a moon's cycle to bloom, their flowers vibrant red against the rich green leaves. Their brilliance stood like a beacon amidst the pallid grays and midnight-darkened evergreen of the Underworld.

Ducking under the branches, she stood in the middle of the small grove. Hecate walked to one of the flowers and peered at its petals, soft and translucent red, glowing as if the sun shone through them. She reached out and touched the waxy leaves, then drew her hand back in surprise. They were warm, as if they were basking in the daylight of the living world above. The red blossom would be unremarkable if it were growing above ground. But this was Chthonia. This sun didn't shine here. Hecate pulled a single petal from a low hanging flower, examining it in her hand. As she did, the one beside it shook loose and floated to the barren ground below. She rolled the petal in her hand and smelled it, tasted it, closed her eyes and moved the energy of the ether through it, trying to find something, anything, unusual about it. She could find nothing that made these trees any different from those growing in the world above, other than how quickly they grew. Perhaps that was their only miracle.

Hecate tucked the single petal into the neckline of her peplos, and reached for the one that had fallen to the ground. When she picked it up, she cupped her hand to her mouth in shock and stumbled back, falling hard on her rump. She stood again, feeling her heart beating out of her chest, and dusted off the back of her peplos, staring closely at the place from where she'd picked up the fallen blossom. Hecate's fingers feathered over a small tuft of light green grass. It grew in the exact shape, in the exact place of the flower that had fallen to the infertile ground. She leaned over, her breath teasing the fragile blades. "It can't be…"

She stood up again and looked at the trees all around her, breathing shallowly. "It can't be!"

Hecate turned her eyes upward and called out to the mists above. "Nyx! Mother Nyx, you must see this!"

She waited.

"Nyx?"

"Your mother was Asteria— daughter of Phiobe, daughter of Gaia— who pledged you as my acolyte, young one," a lilting voice said behind her. Hecate turned to meet the silver rimmed eyes of her mentor, the Goddess of Night, aged as many centuries as Hecate could count years. Darkness wrapped around the curves of her body like an unbound, thin himation, clinging to her and flowing around her as though she were underwater. Her jet-black hair waved about her weightlessly, and her bare white feet stuck out below the cover of darkness, hovering above the ground. She smiled at Hecate. "And after all these millennia, Hecate, we are more friends now than teacher and student, no?"

"Yes, my lady," she smiled.

"What troubles you, young one?" Nyx looked around at the red flowers and answered her own question. "Is it the trees? They are no doubt the work of your student."

"His hands couldn't grow this orchard. Not his two alone," Hecate said, walking over to the tree and brushing her fingers over the leaves.

"Which is why I first hesitated when you told me you had chosen Hades Aidoneus," she said. "The line of our sacred knowledge has always been passed from goddess to goddess— never to a male."

"And that sacred stream had never flowed to an avowed virgin before me. The world has its seasons, and sometimes we have to change with them. True, there is still much for him to learn. But please trust me, as I have asked and you have done before. Your favorite proved herself unworthy, after all," Hecate replied. "Simple passions ruled her, not the call of wisdom. Her decisions may undo us all one day."

"Sooner than you think, young one. My dear son Thanatos walks the earth above too often. The Fates will cut too many threads from the Cloth of Life before this ends. Perhaps it's best for all if we send the little queen back…"

"We cannot, Nyx," Hecate said, returning to where the flower had fallen on the barren ground. "The chthonic soil itself tells us why. Look…"

The Goddess of Night tipped forward as though she were swimming through the air, her hair gently waving behind her. The shroud of darkness followed after, falling away from one breast before it rushed up on its own to cover her once more. Nyx leaned down and looked at the tuft of grass. She listened intently to a silent voice above her and moved her hand along the darkness shrouding her body, caressing it and looking lovingly up to where it swept up and faded away from her form. A slow smile spread across her face. "I knew there was a reason my husband liked her so much."

Hecate looked at her, perplexed, before it dawned on her. "I knew they first coupled before they reached the lands below, but I hadn't imagined it could have been while they were—"

"Erebus said he was honored. He told me he bore witness to the Goddess mating with her thrice-chosen Consort in the ancient manner, the way it was done before the Tyrant." Nyx spat the last word, refusing to say Cronus' name. She rose, righting herself. "Chaos mated with the Void in kind to create the cosmos. It was the original _hieros gamos_, before my generation perfected it. The true Sacred Marriage of the gods— not the pantomime your Lampades engage in with the mortals."

"Aidoneus' eyes saw their union differently," Hecate said, ignoring her teacher's slight against her nymph acolytes. "And a mere moon's cycle learning her thoughts gives me much doubt that Persephone would see it your way either."

"You know better than most that things are not always what they seem," Nyx said as she moved back to the trees. "The narcissus I had Gaia plant in the center of Persephone's sacred grove was what drew her here. When she plucked it, she laid aside her old life and chose us and our ways. She chose him as her mate in that moment, whether she knew or not."

"The divine purpose of that flower is unlikely to bring peace to either of their hearts."

"Our ways are not the ways of the world above. Aidoneus has only begun to realize that. And she will see that one day as well."

"They have not yet performed the Rite. Perhaps then—"

"All in due time. Be patient with them, young one."

"My lady," Hecate said, pointing at the small tuft of grass, "if these blades carry the meaning we suspect, and the true purpose of their union comes to pass— will you join your consort, and become the night as he became the shadow?"

Erebus had not always been the encompassing darkness that separated Chthonia from the world above. Before Cronus enslaved the entire House of Nyx and imprisoned them in the Underworld, all the Protogenoi walked the earth in forms made flesh. Erebus was a tall man with silver hair and midnight blue eyes. Every shadow cast in the daylight stretched forth from his raven black wings— the Lord of Shadows was a fitting consort for his wife, the Goddess of Night. After the war, one by one, they had chosen to fade from their tangible forms into their respective provinces. Hemera grew more luminous until she was the daylight itself, Gaia took root and melded with the earth, and Erebus faded into the darkness. Slowly, others among the old gods followed in their stead, including Hecate's beloved mother. Of the Protogenoi, Nyx was the last to retain her original form.

The goddess of night smiled as Hecate ruminated on their fate, what would someday be the fate of all the immortals. "Truth be told, Erebus likes holding me this way," she said, brushing her hand over the wavering shroud of darkness surrounding her. "He says it makes him feel young when he touches me. I'll keep this form for now. If our ambitions are realized— then we'll see. I'm allowed to change my mind."

Hecate sighed. "I thought to sow the seed of our future when we sealed the betrothal of Hades and Persephone at the river so many ages ago," she said, running her fingers along the sun-warmed leaves. "Now, infinitely more hangs in the balance, and their sapling already twists in a storm."

"They will find a way to weather it."

"The aeons have passed us by, and only this and the next remain."

"Patience."

Hecate and Nyx turned simultaneously to see Aidoneus step out through the palace portico, walking slowly toward the grove. His arms were folded across his chest.

"Do they know?" Nyx asked.

"That these are their creation? Perhaps not. They have both seen how they flourish here. Persephone carried her husband to the grove's heart when she found her own path through the ether, and both are led here in dreams. Aidoneus knows as well as I that creating them is beyond his wisdom, and Persephone is thwarted when she tries to grow even asphodel in the fields of its namesake, much less leaves soaked in sunlight."

"How long since they spoke to each other?"

"Three days," Hecate said, lowering her voice as Aidon approached.

"Have faith in them," Nyx returned.

They silently watched Aidoneus walk into the grove, the gravel crunching under his leather sandals. He touched the warm leaves, and then thinned his lips once he realized he was not alone.

"Hecate. Lady Nyx." He nodded grimly to them in acknowledgement.

Nyx floated toward him. "What troubles you, little one?"

It was his least favorite sobriquet, and one she always managed to use when his frustration was greatest. Aidoneus said nothing; the Goddess of Night was a thousand aeons older than he, and with Erebus, had once ruled both the Underworld and the night sky. He was too tired to challenge her anyway, his body and soul weary from lack of sleep.

"You dislike it," Nyx said, effortlessly reading him, "but our other name for you, Liberator, seems to fit poorly right now."

Aidoneus merely circled the grove, his arms crossed behind his back.

"Ever as taciturn, as you were before. Before her, at least. This isn't about your new queen, is it?"

He clenched his teeth and looked away from her.

Hecate followed closely behind Nyx, who tried again to draw an answer from him. "Aidoneus, you can greet the rest of your subjects behind a mask of solemnity—"

"—but you can see through it, my lady; I know. I don't wish to talk about it," he paused, glancing at their expectant faces, and scowled before dryly continuing. "But clearly I'm to be pestered by both of you until I say something. I'll be brief: I'm taking Persephone back to Demeter."

Hecate shook her head. "Tilling the shoots under so soon?"

"Soon?!" he flared. "She has been here nearly a month! And as soon as there was a glimmer of hope that this could work, I _destroyed_ it. I've ruined everything, Hecate. She will never find it in her heart to love me after what we did— after what I said. I've agonized over this for three days and I'm going to do what is best for all."

"And what does she have to say about this?" Nyx said.

"I cannot bring myself to speak to her, nor would she want me to. Not after we—" he walked away from Nyx and looked out above the twined branches of the trees, the waterfall in the distance cascading upward to the world above. "The mortals are suffering in her absence, thanks to her mother. After what happened between us, Persephone cannot possibly still wish to remain with me. We will still be married in name. She will live in the world above where she belongs, where she's happiest, and my life can go back to the way it was."

"There is no going back, Aidoneus," Hecate replied, "And neither can she. What was done cannot be undone. You cannot build a new tree with those boards."

"This is _my_ marriage!" he said, turning back to them. "It's my decision to make."

"So," Nyx said, "you will leave this realm without a Queen? Or do you have plans to take a concubine? Many of the nymphs who reside here would be willing…"

"No." He felt bile well up in his throat as he contemplated any kind of intimacy with anyone but her.

"Would you stop her if _she_ took a lover?"

His jaw and fingers clenched shut and he closed his eyes so Nyx could not see the fire that lit them. For all the nausea he felt at the idea of laying with another woman, the thought of his wife being touched by another man filled him with a rage so potent it could lay waste to the earth. The Olympian men had no qualms about seducing a woman once she was unbound from her vows of chastity. Unbidden images of Persephone's body being dragged underneath Apollo or Ares tore at him until he thought he would scream.

"Can you push her away so easily," Hecate chided with a smirk, her eyes narrowed at him, "when you hold so tight?"

Aidoneus slammed his fist into the trunk of a tree next to him, feeling his skin break open on its rough bark. His wrist smarted at the impact. He looked at his abraded knuckles, then flexed his fingers outward and felt the wounds knit back together. The branches above dropped delicate red petals to the ground all around them.

"Do not presume that I came to this decision lightly." His voice rasped and he forced his anger to subside. He wouldn't let any of them— not Hecate or Nyx, nor his wife— destroy his hard-won peace of mind ever again. It had taken him aeons after the war to bury anything that could touch him. Now the wounds were open again. She needed to go back; he saw no reason why she wouldn't _want_ to go back. It was the right thing to do for both of them. Once she was with her mother, he would pay a visit to Olympus with a stern warning for each of the male gods. Their fear of him would keep her safe.

"Look around you, Hades. Our world is dark and deep and hidden— an eternal tangle of flowing rivers that surrounds and protects the souls waiting to be reborn to the world above. This is a realm that needs a Queen. We have been without one for too long." The Goddess of Night moved toward him. "Setting me and my children free, drawing the shortest twig when Lachesis held out those three fateful lots for you and your brothers… Those pale beside the real reason the Fates chose you. The gifts and curses of ruling Chthonia were never meant to be your sole burden."

"I have judiciously ruled this kingdom _alone_ for thousands of years. Three and a half weeks are not—"

"And for those thousands of years we waited. We waited for the Queen to find you. To seek you out. You are thrice chosen by her. First when you appeared in her dreams, second when she entered your sacred grove wearing a wreath of laurel and olive, and lastly when she plucked the flower that drew you to her from the depths."

He shook his head. "That's not how it happened, Nyx. I went to her father for permission to take Persephone as my bride, as it is done in the world above. I invaded her dreams; I chased her from her home, I rapt her away in my chariot and took her maidenhead in the dark."

"Thousands of years, and still you think like an Olympian." Hecate said. "Theirs is a different world, and ours are different ways."

"Hecate, if I never hear you say that again, it will be too soon." He turned to leave the grove again. "Please— both of you— just leave me in peace with my decision."

"Hades…" Nyx breathed.

He turned, slowly and deliberately, to her once more. Aidoneus watched as she raised her hand and looked at the ground. Nyx splayed out her fingers and turned her palm upward. The red flowers lifted, hovering in midair as languidly as she did. They circled her and spiraled into a tight ball hovering weightless above her outstretched palm before bursting into flames, the embers shining like stars before vanishing into the darkness that shrouded her.

"Tell me, little one…" she said to him, "at what point should _these_ be factored into your decision?"

Aidon looked down to where Nyx pointed her long fingers. On the gray, lifeless soil were scattered tufts of vibrant green, lying in the exact places the petals had been knocked to the ground. Making sure not to step on any of them, he walked carefully over to one, and crouched low to examine it. Aidon squinted at it and gingerly brushed his fingers along the soft blades of grass. "What in Tartarus…?" he whispered under his breath.

Hecate met his confusion with her placid gaze. "You are not the first lovers to quarrel, Aidoneus. But you are the first to create anything like this."

"I did not… I _cannot_—"

"No, you cannot," Hecate said. "Not you alone."

"How are Persephone and I able to do this?" he said, his eyes wide with confusion.

Nyx and Hecate looked at each other. The Goddess of Night spoke. "My son said you came to him seeking an answer— that you've seen these in your dreams, and she as well…"

"Morpheus knew nothing about these," he said. "They don't appear in the dream world."

"When you first went to Persephone, my son brought you together," Nyx said. "To dream of another or ask that another dream of you is one thing…"

Aidoneus thought about their first meeting. How full of confusion he had been when he discovered himself pressed against her skin. How natural it felt to be with her.

"…But to bring two together in the same dream, to unite them— has only ever been asked of my son once."

"Remember how you appeared to each other in the dream," Hecate said. "And consider that it was _her_ dream."

He looked at Hecate, dumbfounded.

"Is it so hard to believe, Aidoneus?" she continued. "You dreamed you met her in her own shrine, and so did she. She dreamed of her future husband that night, the night you walked into her dream to announce your betrothal. How you appeared to her was _her_ idea. Your name a mystery, your realm unknown to her, she still grew your sacred bloom from the earth where she slept and dreamed of you."

"You are her chosen Consort. And just as was done in that first dream, you, Aidoneus, provided the seed to create these. Together you have dreamed the pomegranate trees into existence, little one," Nyx said, softly motioning to the leaves and flowers hanging above them.

"But what does it mean?"

"That is knowledge I cannot pass to you," Hecate said.

"Of course it isn't!" he said sarcastically. "Because the day I get a straight answer out of either of you, the Styx will flow backwards!"

Hecate and Nyx stared back at him. Aidoneus turned once more to leave.

"I don't think you understand Hecate's meaning," Nyx began, stopping him. "We cannot pass this knowledge onto you because _we_ don't know what these mean. There are possibilities, but that is all they are."

He looked at them somberly. "A shame they will remain just that, then."

"Aidon," Hecate said, "do you love her?"

"You know that I do," he said softly.

"You fought each other with hard words— and you both chose how to end that fight," she said, folding her arms. "Neither could have happened unless she loved you just as fiercely. You believe your love compels you to send her back, and you are willing to sacrifice your every desire for her happiness, Aidoneus. But one more offering is required— your pride. Go to her."

He loved her. Throughout all this, he loved her terribly, achingly— his passion undiminished. Since their argument he'd barely slept, not even spending time in his own bedroom, instead electing to nod off in the evening for an hour or so, slumped on his throne between the increasing number of judgments. He swiped a hand over his unshaven face. It was a marvelous contradiction. Thoughts of her tormented his waking moments relentlessly, yet he couldn't be at peace unless she was with him. His knew his needs, but what of her? Nyx, as she was wont to do, spoke of the metaphysical, the unsubstantiated. Her revelations were about a kind of love that Persephone wouldn't understand— Aidon could barely wrap his mind around the imagery Nyx used, most of its meaning lost to the ages.

But he knew from the moment Persephone started tracing the scars of his past, healing him far deeper than the shallow marks on his skin, that she loved him as well. For that one sublime act, Aidon was eager to spend eternity returning that affection to her. How much would they miss, how many more perfect moments would lie cold and dormant if he released her back to Demeter? He stood at the precipice, fear flooding back into him once more. What if his wife wanted to leave him, and this was all for naught? Could he convince her to stay?

Aidoneus plucked a single red flower, cradling it in his hand. It was bright and warm. He nodded and carefully tucked its red petals into the folds of his himation. Pointing at solemn Nyx and a wide-grinning Hecate, he said, "I'm not doing this for either of you," and purposefully turned on his heels to leave the grove. "Or whatever you think may come of these."

"We should be the least of your concerns. All you see here is mutable and inconsequential," Nyx said, sweeping her hands out at the trees. She spoke quietly to herself as Aidon walked back toward the palace. "But your beloved queen is not, Liberator. Nearly anything can be forgiven, if one is willing to open their heart completely."


	24. Chapter 23

The warm rush of divinity flowed back into Demeter—beating in her heart, coursing through her veins. She could feel energy from the Telesterion's altar nourishing her. When Demeter placed just a few drops of ambrosia on his tongue, Triptolemus' fever broke almost immediately.

The infant Demophon was far more difficult.

She rocked the restive babe against her breast, feeling utterly alone in the cosmos. Zeus had abandoned her long ago, and had added insult to injury with his betrayal of their own daughter. Poseidon was only ever loyal to his accursed brothers, and had made a disgusting mockery of her grief. Hades— she couldn't even _think_ his name anymore without whipping up a wind that would shake the stone foundations of the great hall. Her daughter was trapped in the Underworld, dead by any definition the mortals could use. The people of Hellas had abandoned her. The other gods and nymphs cared nothing for her. Even loyal Minthe was nowhere to be found.

But the House of Celeus cared for her, had restored her life as surely as she would heal both their sons. She could have done so much more to save their daughters from Hades' grasp if she had just arrived sooner. Maybe after she finished with Demophon, she would make them all immortal— a new family to replace the family that had betrayed her.

There were other curatives she could use for the boy, but they would require the earth to be healthy and fruitful, which it most certainly was not. Without them, there was little left that she could do— only bestowing immortality itself on the child would save him. It was the least she could do for the last of her worshippers. She placed the sleeping Demophon back in his crib. The sacraments granting him deathlessness were almost finished, though the last would be the hardest to complete. It would be unwise to do so in daylight— not when she was in the constant presence of mortals.

"My Lady…" A warm tenor voice echoed through the cold hall.

Demeter turned and suppressed a smile. She nodded to the young man. "You are looking well today, my Prince. But I'm just a humble old priestess. Addressing me as 'my Lady' is unnecessary," she said, and walked over to the hearth to retrieve a piece of kindling.

Triptolemus wore a gold circlet on his head, similar to his father's. He was dressed in indigo to mourn for his sisters, the wool himation wrapped tightly around him against the cold. Recovery had been quick. The dark circles under his eyes were already fading. His skin was flushed with health and golden from a childhood spent in the sun. He smiled at her. "Whatever you say… my Lady."

Demeter looked back at him, the heavy crow's feet around her eyes giving away her amusement.

"And that's not entirely true, is it Doso?" Triptolemus said. Demeter placed the glowing ember of wood in the censer and wafted the vapors of dried parsley leaves over Demophon's crib. "My mother said that you come from a noble family on Crete."

He could see the glamour of advanced age fall away for just a moment, her hair momentarily flashing radiant gold and copper instead of brittle white. Anyone else would have missed it. While Demeter was healing him, Triptolemus had seen her radiant and youthful face many times in the delirium of his breaking fever.

"That was a long time ago," Demeter said. "Before you were born."

_Aeons before I was born— isn't that right my Lady?_ He thought, but said nothing. He had never even met a nymph before, much less a goddess. Triptolemus had known from the moment her hand stroked his forehead at the height of his illness that Doso was none other than their lost and mourning Great Lady of the Harvest. Her skin and hair and clothes might be haggard. But when she walked, her gait was lighter than a crone's should be. Her eyes were free of jaundice or cataracts and sparkled a deep green. "What made you leave?"

She looked up at him, unsure of how to answer. How could she even compose a half-truth from the reality that her tyrannical father, the deposed King of the Gods, had _swallowed_ her as an infant? That her mother the Queen had let him?

"You don't have to answer if you don't want. If it's too painful—"

"_Those_ wounds have healed, Triptolemus. Fresher ones…" she began, trailing off before resuming her story. "An oracle once told my father that one of his children would violently overthrow and imprison him. My mother resolved that she would never go to his bed, and thereby not have any children by him, thus ensuring that the oracle's prophecy would never come to pass and thinking that this would please him. But my lord father lusted after my lady mother relentlessly. She tried to fight him off one night, but he took her against her will. The eldest of us was begotten that way. After he was born, after he was… hidden… she gave in and acquiesced to give my father his husbandly rights, her spirit broken. I was the last born girl."

"Doso, if you don't want to continue, I won't make you. I was just curious." He knew his hymns. He knew that Cronus has swallowed nearly all his children— lastly her. Triptolemus placed a hand on her shoulder, forgetting for a moment that he was touching a goddess. Through her glamour as the healing priestess and beyond the true nature she hid, he looked deeper into her and saw Demeter, the woman.

Demeter shivered, though the palm of his hand was warm and soothing. If he were any other mortal, she would have turned him into a lizard for daring to touch her, but his presence was comforting and welcome. "No, my Prince, it's all right. No one's ever asked these questions about my past before. Well, once before, but the answers would have been too harmful..."

"He must have tried to kill all of you. Where were you hidden from him?"

"Everywhere," she answered. She thought about Hecate, her former teacher, for the first time in a long while. Demeter remembered the three of them leaving the protection of the ether each night, always emerging somewhere new. Aidoneus would build a fire and she would tend to it while he sharpened his sword in long strokes beside the flames. One night on Samothrace, when she was still a virgin, Hecate had taken her aside, away from the rhythmic scrape of whetstone against bronze. Amidst the chirping cicadas, the Titaness had whispered cryptic words to her, and explained Demeter's eventual part in the _hieros gamos_. Those were bloody, dangerous, and simple times. "And nowhere all at once."

"Was your father overthrown?"

"Yes. Eventually."

"What happened to your brothers and sisters?"

"I don't speak to them anymore," she said, looking down.

Triptolemus could now see through the glamour Demeter had cast over herself. His hand rested on a shoulder whose joints were not swollen or bowed with age, but smooth and straight as though she were no more than thirty years old. The dusky himation she'd wrapped around herself was truly a bright red chiton held by fibulae in the shape of barley. He gingerly touched his thumb to her collarbone and her awareness came back, returning her form to wise old Doso. Triptolemus spoke to her. "If you can spare a moment from my baby brother, I have something you might like to see."

Demeter wrinkled her forehead and looked back up at him.

He stood and offered her his hand. She smiled and accepted, allowing him to help her up. Her joints had stopped aching days ago, but she tried to rise slowly nonetheless. She had to keep this appearance at least until she was done curing the infant. Otherwise, there would be too much to explain. She let Triptolemus support her at the small of her back and leaned into his strong hand.

They walked to the end of the main hall adjacent to Demeter's shrine. Triptolemus pulled back a tapestry that hung across one of the great oak doors. He cracked it open and motioned for her to step through.

The room beyond smelled like plants and growth— living, breathing things with their own green heartbeats. A pulse drummed from them, a rhythm that she had been able to feel so completely before her Kore was taken from her. In raised wooden boxes of rich peat and soil, dozens of small plants grew green and healthy, all carefully arranged in tight rows. She peered closely at them. Oat. Barley. Wheat. Rye. Millet. All had pregnant sheaves fuller and longer than anything she'd ever seen a mortal plant in the fields. The corns were ripe to near bursting. Demeter looked up to see a sloped plane of clear quartz held aloft by the stone walls and columns. A great iron pot filled with water hung over a brazier of coals and boiled away in the corner, flooding the room with heat and thickening the air with steam.

"What is all this?" Demeter said in awe, touching one of the sheaves, its velvety kernels sliding through her fingers. "How did you do this?"

"It started as something to pass the time. I called this place a greenhouse when I first started experimenting three years ago. The crops in here stayed green and grew a few weeks longer, while the summer turned the plants outside to brown," Triptolemus said. "That was the marvel that turned this from a pastime into the project that has consumed me ever since."

Demeter looked up at the sun filtering in through the polished stone above them.

"That was the hardest thing to procure," he said, following her gaze. "Truth be told, it is a good thing that the ice and snow hid the walls and ceiling of the greenhouse when the food started running out. Otherwise this would have been overrun and destroyed within days. I've always been fascinated with the gifts the Great Lady of the Harvest gave us mortals. Each time I harvested, I offered a third the fruits of my work to Demeter on her altar and thanked her for her generosity. I was so afraid when I fell ill that these plants would all die." He tentatively took Demeter's hand and looked into her eyes, afraid. "Doso, does the Great Lady of the Harvest think that I am full of hubris for what I do? That I overstep my bounds as her worshipper? What would she say to me if she saw this?"

Demeter looked at him in mild shock and placed her free hand on his shoulder. "She would commend you, my child. How did you do all this?"

"This is the seventh time I've planted. After each harvest I experiment further, culling the weaker stock and crossing the strongest seeds to create better ones. The Great Lady's priestess said I had a gift given to me when I was born, that I would somehow be given great honors and my works taught to all. I don't aspire to that. I only want to take care of my plants and let them take care of my family. My sisters used to help. With prayer and luck, mixing the right soil, and keeping the heat steady in here, I've been able to create wheat sheaves twice as long as any found in Eleusis. Helios does the rest," he said, pointing at the sun shining through the quartz roof above.

"I can tell you now that the Great Lady Demeter would be touched by your offerings. Her heart would be glad." For the first time in nearly a month, she smiled. For the first time since the morning she fell to her knees to rip Hades' profane asphodel flowers out of her daughter's shrine, Demeter felt joy. She cupped a warm hand to the young man's face and he smiled back at her.

Triptolemus leaned down and quickly kissed her next to her ear. "Thank you, Doso."

Demeter shivered at the warm touch of his lips against her cheek. "Sh-She would tell you to go into the world and teach this to all the mortals of Hellas once the cold ends— one Hades gives Kore back to the Lady of the Harvest. This _needs_ to be shared."

"Everyone in Hellas?" he said with a smile. "My Lady, that would take longer than a lifetime."

"Yes," Demeter said, looking at the perfect rows of grain. "Yes, it would."

"My Lady, before I fell ill, and after I recovered, I prayed day and night for Kore's return from the halls of the Unseen One. We all miss her greatly. I know that as her priestess you feel her loss, more acutely than most. My mother said that you once had a daughter," he said, realizing even as he did that he might be tempting the Fates and incurring the anger of a powerful goddess. _Trust me_, he thought. _Let me help heal you as you healed me. I know who you are…_

Demeter turned from him, her eyes watering. "Yes. We were traveling to… Thorikos," she spun. "My daughter and I were driven from our familiar shores, hunted by a pirate, a thief of the seas who lusted for my daughter. I entrusted her to two warriors whom I thought would protect her, but they were in league with him. When he finally found her and carried her away, there was a mighty storm and she was dragged down to Hades."

The tale was creative, and one she'd probably told a few times on her journeys around Hellas. But Triptolemus knew that only the last part was true. "You saved me from the journey to the Other Side, Doso. I wish there were some way, any way at all that I could help return your daughter to you."

Demeter nodded to him, and then pondered her situation. The warmth and vital humidity of the room drifted around her, soaking into her skin. She was struck with realization. They stood in the last place on earth were food grew, and the bounty was all hers. The only sacrifices that could be made, the only honors left for any of the gods, weren't for Zeus. They were for her. She straightened her elderly frame and looked up at him. "I saved you from Hades, and I swore to your mother that he would not have you. I will continue to be true to my word," she said, sweeping her eyes across the garden Triptolemus had dedicated to her, "and I would do so forever."

"My Lady?" His mouth went dry. _Surely she didn't mean…_

"Triptolemus, what if I told you there was a way? A way that I could ensure that you would live, that you would be young, that you could share your gift with all once Kore is returned and the winter ends? A way that I am using to save your baby brother Demophon even now?"

"If I understand you, my Lady," he said slowly, remembering to whom he was truly speaking, "Then I would be favoring one god and angering another. The Unseen One does not like to be cheated out of souls. I'm only a man; I know my time is fleeting. I was ready to be reaped not three days ago when you arrived. If I try to escape my mortal fate and fail, I might burn in Tartarus forever."

"Only if your soul were still mortal. You must share your gift with all of Hellas one day. The Great Lady commands it," she said imperiously, lifting her chin.

"Are—" he swallowed, "are you saying that you would make me im-immortal?"

"You would need to trust me, my Prince. Wholly and completely."

Triptolemus thought about his mother and father, his friends. He imagined watching them wither and die, as he remained evergreen. He had thought to outlive his mother and father and rule Eleusis one day, but to outlive cities and kingdoms, to outlive forests and mountains… The fruitful crops surrounding them— were possibly the last in the entire world. What if something happened to him? Three days ago he nearly died from a fever, and years of careful work would have followed him to the grave. His parents thought his plants were a miracle, but they didn't know how to tend them or teach his methods. His sisters had only learned the most essential secrets, and now they were all gone to Hades, wandering as shades among the asphodel beneath the earth. To live forever would be lonely; but could he risk letting every mortal mouth go unfed?

He looked Doso— Demeter— in the eye, slowly inhaling to calm his racing heartbeat. "I trust you."

She nodded. "It will not be easy, and you will feel the change. It will require fire and water, earth and air, and most importantly, this." Doso pulled the leather satchel she always wore around her neck from the folds of her himation and opened its string closure. Triptolemus peered inside and gasped. A golden glow grew from within, and warmth that eclipsed the balmy air of his indoor garden poured out. It smelled sweeter than warm honey. Was this truly ambrosia?

"What do you need me to do?"

"I require olive oil; enough to coat your skin. You will need to find me pennyroyal and honey to mix into_ kykeon_. The barley mead _must_ be free of all impurities, especially ergot," Demeter looked at him sternly as she said the last word.

Triptolemus nodded and shoved through the door of the greenhouse, running for the kitchen.


	25. Chapter 24

**Author's Note:** _Warning… chapter contains violence. I'm aware that I've made references to acts of violence in past chapters, but those references were embedded in the narration. This stuff is live. I'm of the opinion that I'd rather see two people making love than two people trying to kill one another, so most of my warnings for sensuality come in preceding chapters. Warnings throughout Receiver of Many for violence will come at the forefront, as I find violence to be far more controversial than sex. Also, there's mild sensuality in this chapter, which I probably should have posted a warning about last chapter. My bad. In any event, enjoy.  
_

* * *

Whenever he decided to seduce a woman in the world above, it took concentration not to appear as a wraith. He needed to focus every bit of himself to keep his face, his hands, his very flesh warm and corporeal. One careless moment imagining what she looked like underneath her clothing, and he was once again a skeletal shadow cloaked in a heavy himation. Here, he was Death. The end. The hooded man in black with the bony fingers and the fearsome blade.

Thanatos didn't need to think about these things when he was with Eris. His conscious self could disappear. Whether she saw his angelic or skeletal aspect mattered little; if she ever did see his shadowy self, Eris never let on that she cared. Perhaps, he thought, she enjoyed it— the chaotic transition between vitality and death, youth and desiccation.

But whichever side of him Eris preferred, Thanatos knew exactly what state he was in at that moment. The hard rhythm of skin on skin was buried in the chaos of the smoking Chalcidian battlement where she'd found him. With thin black wings outstretched, Eris had swooped on him like a falcon, demanding her fulfillment. It was a habit of hers when she discovered him walking the killing fields, searching for those who had died honorably.

They'd had more trysts in these situations than he cared to admit— surrounded by the smell of freshly spilt blood, the screams of city folk and horses mingled with the cold puncture of bronze spears, the black smoke of olive oil burning in store rooms. For ages the mortal blood had soaked into the ground while they coupled, the dust of men returning to the earth, seeping through the rich soil and falling toward his home in the Underworld, rejoining his family and his king.

But now the blood stood fresh and red on the snow, frozen in time, bodies and souls trapped in the cold unnatural waste of the living world. It troubled him. But her high-pitched cries drowned out thoughts of the disastrous imbalance plaguing the world above and of his wearying role. Her velvety heat made him forget where he was, who he was, what he was each time he slipped into her.

Thanatos let their surroundings vanish from his thoughts and tried to find warmth within her, fighting against the cold that chilled his bones. Heat she had in abundance, but no warmth existed in Eris. It had always been that way with her, even when the world was fresh and green. Eris gripped his right arm, fingernails digging half moons into his wrist, and pulled his sickle dangerously closer to her throat with each flex of his hips. She stared at him with dark irises, light freckles framing a twisted smile. Just as he was about to question whether or not the Goddess of Discord could feel anything at all, he got his answer.

She gasped and opened her eyes wide, digging her slender fingers into the mortar cracks behind her, arching away from where he was joined to her. Thanatos dropped the sickle into the snow and grabbed her hips, quickening his pace. Eris screamed and laughed as she undid him. A groan forced its way out of his lungs and through his gritted teeth, and he felt a heat flash through his body that could have melted all the snow in the world above.

Stepping away from her, Thanatos picked up his sickle and himation, shaking the fallen snow from his cast off cloak. She leaned against the stone, a sated grin on her lips. Eris whooped in gratification and triumph, then leapt off the masonry ledge and twirled in a circle. Death wrapped the heavy black wool around his slender frame while she sang to herself and danced about. She ran her tongue along her teeth when she came to a stop in front of him. Thanatos smirked.

"I needed that," she said, exhaling and sighing contentedly, her wings fanning behind her. Eris smoothed her tattered peplos over her hips. She snatched his sickle right out of his hand and cut off a lock of her black hair, casting it over the edge of the stone battlement. It floated on the breeze, drifting in front of the last line of the Chalcidian phalanx defending the city. She bit her bottom lip and smiled, standing on tiptoe to see what would happen.

A panicked cry went up when the lock settled to the ground and the soldiers broke their lines, the Thracian army plowing through them, slaughtering as they went, and battering down the wooden gates. They swarmed hungrily toward the precious grain stores the Chalcidians had struggled the whole of the afternoon to defend. The air was filled with the death cries of livestock, the pleading screams of women, and the acrid smell of thatch rooftops burning.

Eris stretched her arm toward him, sickle in hand, her lip caught in her teeth. She looked perfectly coquettish— a mockery of the innocence she'd abandoned long before he'd first come to her.

Thanatos grabbed his instrument from her roughly. He shook his head, still recovering, his voice harsh. "Foolish woman…"

"Foolish how? To live up to my name? To engage in my divine role?" She sauntered closer to Thanatos and scored his flesh from the hollow of his neck to the underside of his chin with a sharp fingernail. "To enjoy fucking Death?"

"You know what this sickle really is, don't you? That blade I press to your fragile neck? You're aware of what it could do to you?"

"So why don't you do it?" she said, tracing the tip of her tongue over the rosy line left by her fingernail. Her lips brushed across his abraded alabaster skin. "Slip one of these days. Cut my throat as you fuck me."

He didn't know if it was a dare, a request, or a taunt. Thanatos remained silent and stepped back, looking at her askance, before he gave up trying to guess her intent. Wrapping his himation around his shoulders, he saw her grin in triumph.

"Oh, Thanatos, you care so much about my well-being," she said, then clasped her hands to her chest in mock realization. "You _do _love me! I always knew you did! After all, I'm the only woman whose bed you've ever returned to."

"I've only seen your _bed_ once."

She laughed again and danced in a circle around him. "Coy as ever, my delectable little murderer of souls, but you know what I mean. I've lost count of how many times you've put your magnificent prick in me."

"The thing I like the most about you, Eris," Thanatos said, hissing her name through his teeth, "is that it's like fucking a different woman every time."

She narrowed her eyes at him, the leering smile still decorating her face as she came to a stop in front of him. They heard heavy buskin boots crunching through the snow, growing louder. "So why are you here, anyway?"

"I need to speak with your… associate."

"Oh, you mean my _brother_."

"I've told you a thousand times, Eris," a deep voice said, "don't call me that."

Thanatos drew his hood back over his head against the bite of the wind and turned to face Ares. The red cloaked God of War and Bloodshed stood with spear in hand, his Chalcidian helmet squarely framing his jaw and pasting the fiery red ringlets of his hair to his forehead and neck.

"Would you rather I called you _daddy_?" Eris said with a wicked grin, sidling up to him and leaning against his shoulder. Ares pursed his lips and looked sick. Thanatos understood from the expression on the Olympian's face that Ares had recently made the same mistake he continued to make with the Goddess of Discord.

Death grinned. Eris had no parents. No discernable ones at any rate. Most didn't know where she came from, and she always gave a different answer whenever anyone was foolish enough to ask her.

"Leave us be, woman," Ares sneered at her. "The men need to talk."

"Men," she snickered, clutching roughly at her breasts. "Oh! So if I grew a prick, I could join you? Because it really wouldn't take much to grow one like _yours_, brother."

"Get out of my sight!" Ares bellowed, his face turning as red as his bloodstained cloak.

Thanatos bit his lips together and thanked the Fates that his hood currently hid his face from the angry god's view. Eris laughed and walked between Thanatos and Ares, her hands outstretched and pointedly brushing past both of their groins. She spread her wings and spun around, her path through the ether opening behind her, its edges wavering and bending as though all of existence were collapsing within it.

"I'll see you soon, _lover_," she said, blowing an indiscriminate kiss into the air. Eris snickered again and vanished.

"Intolerable, insulting wench…" Ares muttered, his anger abating. "I don't know how you can stand her."

Thanatos shrugged. Black ink outlines of an eight-pointed sun and horses dancing along a meandros of waves decorated Ares' forearms. He cocked his head to the side to examine them. "Those are new."

"I'm siding with Thrace today," Ares said with a smile.

"And yet your helm would suggest otherwise."

"That was from yesterday," he replied, "We'll see how it goes. If Thrace continues to please me, I'll change it, too."

"Well, that's part of the matter I came to speak with you about. You _do_ realize what's happening all over Hellas and beyond, don't you?"

Ares snorted. "You mean Demeter refusing to tend the earth? Or can we call a spear a spear and attribute this to your dread lord and lady?"

"This has nothing to do with our king," Thanatos said quietly. "And even less to do with our queen. Wanton destruction is the province of the Olympians; not us."

"Ha! One would think Hades would be pleased with all this. Isn't he? More souls for his kingdom, after all."

Thanatos looked at him with a cold smile. "You're a fool, young one."

"Oh? How so, Death? If I were unlucky enough to draw the lot for the Underworld, I would redouble my efforts to make sure that my third of the cosmos was the best share."

Thanatos raised his eyebrows at that. "Well then, I'll be sure to thank the Fates every day that you will never set foot in the greatest of the three realms."

"Greatest?!" Ares laughed long and loud, the slice of swords through flesh crescendoing around them in answer. "Gods above, I'd rather be a slave to the poorest mortal alive than lord over all those who have perished. I _meant_ that it would be under _my _guidance! You're funny, Death— I always knew I liked you for a reason. Greatest, indeed…"

Thanatos absently twirled his sickle and wrapped his himation tightly around him, the bite of the wind chilling him to his core. He gave the red-cloaked god a toothy smile. Death took a menacing step closer to Ares. His cheeks sunk in until the taut flesh split and pulled away into the gaps between his pale bones. Hollow sockets stared into the war god's eyes. "Keep telling yourself that, Ares."

The grin left the Olympian's face and he paled, almost losing his balance on the icy slush underfoot.

_Coward_, Thanatos thought. _You wouldn't last a day on the Other Side_. His bony fingers clutched at the hood hanging over his skull so it wouldn't be pulled back by the bitter wind. "I've been busy enough, God of War. Stop exploiting the famine. Your thirst for bloodshed can wait until Demeter has finished her… grieving. And if you do not grant me that simple request, then someday I just might fail to show up and give your worshippers a noble death."

"You wouldn't," Ares bristled.

"Try me. Would you rather deal with my sisters?"

Ares swallowed and slid his right foot backward.

"I thought not." Thanatos spread his black wings and took flight above the killing fields. "End this ridiculous war today, Ares, or next time your honored dead will be visited by the Keres. Consider yourself lucky that I'm leaving _you_ with the choice."


	26. Chapter 25

It was finished by sunset. Demeter was impressed by how the Prince had remained serene and obedient throughout the ritual. She glanced behind her at Triptolemus, who was sleeping peacefully on the couch near the hearth. His parents were unable to see the change, and the Prince had wisely said nothing. But she could see what they could not. A faint luminescence under his skin shimmered back and forth, his body adjusting to being one of the deathless ones. Now that Triptolemus was immortal, the house of Celeus wouldn't die of starvation. He could work his magic with the plants, teach the secrets to his house, and teach all of Eleusis, all of Attica, and then all of Hellas one day.

It had been quicker for him than for Demophon. She had spent three days coaxing the baby to drink the _kykeon _and ambrosia, the infant fussing and twisting every time she tried to feed him. Demeter remembered how her infant daughter would suck the sweet liquid off her fingers. Kore had been such an easy baby.

Demeter thought about the uncertain days of Kore's infancy. Eleusis was just a handful of wood and straw houses back then, and though her mortal neighbors left offerings at her nearby temple, none spoke to her, or even recognized who she really was. The effigies of her were crude back then— big breasted clay women with fertile wombs and comically large hips that the villagers would heap with sheaves of barley, millet and wheat— the crops her lady mother Rhea had created for the humans.

Aidoneus' promise to steal Kore away to his sunless kingdom once she came of age had haunted her since the night he came to her home. From the moment he left, she lived in fear that he would return any day to rip Kore away from her, keep her as his ward until she came of age, or let Hecate or even frightful Nyx raise her daughter to mistrust or despise her. On one of Demeter's rare visits to Olympus, Hestia had told her that his awful promise to her was the last he had spoken to any of them. He would shun the company of the Olympians in order to abide by Demeter's hasty oath and one day take her daughter. Demeter was left to guess when that would be.

Half a year after that fateful night at the end of the war, a strong farmer named Iasion heard Demeter weeping for her loneliness and her daughter's immutable destiny. She had startled when he knocked on the door, asking what could make such a lovely young mother cry, and wondering aloud if she had lost her husband during the war. Demeter had only leaned on his shoulder and continued her tears. The next day he brought her fresh milk and honeyed figs and pomegranates. He sang to Kore as he mashed up the figs and laughed as she happily gummed the sweet fruit from his fingers. He took Demeter to see the plowshare he'd made from melted down shields and spears, and the even rows he used to organize each plant in his field, so different from the clumps that grew from the villager's scattered seeds. The day after, he popped a pomegranate seed into Demeter's mouth and surprised her with a quick kiss and tender words. Iasion still visited Demeter even after she told him the truth— that she was one of the immortals whose long war had ravaged the earth and its people, and had turned Iasion into a childless widower.

Demeter had loved him for the short time they had. She remembered listening to the cicadas chirp all night as the mortal farmer's calloused hand wrapped around her arm and cupped her breast. She remembered the lullabies he taught her to soothe Kore back to sleep. She remembered the thick blond stubble on his chin and the laugh lines around his turquoise eyes that grew year by year. She remembered refusing to make him immortal. She remembered when he died. They had been lying hand in hand under the open sky in one of his freshly tilled wheat fields, blissful and exhausted from lovemaking. The king of the gods still harbored jealousy for Demeter, and with a single sudden bolt of lightning, he destroyed her brief happiness. In grief, she took Kore from Eleusis and fled to Nysa before the first green shoots of wheat broke the soil.

She grew sad thinking about how she had almost forgotten him, even though she knew Iasion had long ago forgotten her after he had descended to the Underworld and drank from the Lethe. No doubt his soul had been reborn and then died again many times by now, crossing back and forth between this side and the Other. How proud he would be of Triptolemus, who could take the fruits of the land that Iasion had once organized into neat rows and transform them into something even greater. She looked back at the sleeping Prince again and felt her heart beat faster. From the questions he asked, she suspected that Triptolemus knew who she was, and perhaps he could even see through her aged disguise. The Prince had tried so hard today to please her and offer her comfort. He had the passionate idealism of young Zeus and the mature strength of her lost Iasion. And now that he was one of the deathless ones, neither the King of the Gods nor the Lord of the Dead would be able to harm him.

Triptolemus had stripped for her in his greenhouse. She had rubbed the ambrosia-infused olive oil into every inch of his skin and hair, admiring his form in the soft light and tamping down wayward thoughts about his crystal blue eyes and the sinews and muscles under his golden skin as she concentrated on her task. He hadn't flinched at her hands once, not even when she had massaged the oil into his most intimate parts. Triptolemus simply stood there, calmly breathing through his nose, smiling softly and following her lead as he accepted each of the five sacraments that would grant him immortality. The last part was the most difficult.

Demeter now faced this same difficult task as she fed the _kykeon_ to baby Demophon. He was quiet, murmuring only once when she lifted him out of the crib. She had just enough ambrosia left to complete the ritual for the babe. This time the infant was relaxed, accepting the liquid from the ceramic feeding cup that dry-breasted Metaneira had used to feed the child goat's milk since his birth. Demeter stood up and gathered Demophon in her arms. As she slowly unwrapped the swaddling clothes and brought the loose end of her himation around his body to warm him, she bounced him on her knee and softly patted his back to keep him quiet and break up any gas. If he was too cold or uncomfortable, he might cry out and wake his family. Demeter had rubbed ambrosia oil into Demophon's infant skin yesterday. He glowed in the light of the hearth fire, his nascent immortality begging to be loosed from its mortal bonds. She knelt down with the babe in her arms, and blew on the coals.

_And now to separate the chaff from the corn_, she thought. She pulled the end of her himation over her head to improve her concentration.

Demeter waved her hand over the coals and watched them flame to life once more in a ring, an empty space created in their midst. She brought her right hand over the flame, the fire swirling now into a circle around her extended palm. She felt its heat radiating through her. Three days ago it would have burned her skin, but after the House of Celeus started placing sacrifices on her altar, all she could feel from the fire was the gentle lick of heat under her palm. She splayed out her fingers and swept her hand in a circle at the wrist. The fire responded in kind; its flames swirled like water in a basin. A circle of protection for the infant formed in their midst. It wouldn't take but an hour— there was plenty of coal in the hearth for the time she required.

She lifted the infant's ear to her lips and whispered the words she had said to Triptolemus before he stood atop the coals spilled from the brazier in his greenhouse. "Initiate to the holiest of mysteries, behold the final sacrament. Now we cast aside your mortal life to be sacrificed in the fire. As the corn must shed the chaff, so too immortality must free itself of the dust of the earth. Accept this final purgation and join the sacred deathless ones."

The baby murmured and looked up at Demeter, his limbs moving languidly as she placed him on the coals. He hiccupped once but otherwise remained quiet. Demeter kept winding her right hand over the fire as she drew his mortality out of him with her left. Embers flared around Demophon, who lay unburnt within the circle of fire, the essence of his mortal life consumed… just a little while longer…

Metaneira awoke when the flame started to flicker. She looked over at Doso hunched in front of the hearth. _That kind old priestess_… _stoking the fire so late at night. May the Great Lady bless her_.

She glanced at Demophon's crib. Empty. Her breath caught in her throat as a gurgle came from near the hearth. Metaneira stood slowly, her bare feet padding across the freezing stone floor. A loud hiss from the flames stopped her for a moment and lit the shadows as a drip of sap from a fresh log flared and fizzled. It calmed. Her heart beat faster. She neared the hearth and the shrouded Doso, who fanned the fire with her breath and drew tendrils of gray smoke from it by the tips of her raised fingers. A golden glow shone just in front of her. Metaneira heard a cooing murmur and peered over the oblivious priestess' shoulder.

"My baby!"

The queen screamed and heaved Doso away from the hearth fire, where she landed hard on her elbows. Demeter spun back as Metaneira dove forward into the fire and gathered the startled infant from the flames. She batted away the embers that clung to the sleeves of her mantle while Demophon wailed.

"Celeus! Celeus! Wake up, Celeus!"

"Quiet! Put him back, you foolish woman!" Demeter rasped, pleading with the hysterical queen. "It's not finished yet!"

"Witch!" Metaneira screamed over her. Demeter watched helplessly as the fire closed back in on itself and dissipated. "She's a witch!"

"Metaneira! What is the meaning of this?!" Celeus threw off his wool blanket and sat up from the divan to see Metaneira drop Demophon into his cradle and furiously grab the priestess' hair. Doso cried out in pain.

"Celeus! She was trying to kill our baby! She's a witch! A servant of Hecate! We must _burn her_!" she said, still gripping a clump of Doso's hair. Triptolemus startled awake and stood up from his bed.

"Let her go!" Metaneira spun around as Triptolemus slowly advanced on her. "Mother, let her go. Doso wasn't harming him!"

"I know what I saw! And I saw a _witch burning my son!_"

"How dare you say that about her! She's not who you think she is—"

"She's poisoned you, Triptolemus!" Metaneira pointed back at her son, tears stinging her eyes. She roughly wrenched Doso away, the old woman's body splaying across the stone floor.

"Mother, if you could calm yourself long enough to let me explain—"

"No! Stay back! You are under her spell!"

Demeter got up on one elbow and looked Triptolemus in the eye. She was certain now: he knew.

Metaneira spat in Doso's direction and leveled a quivering finger at her. "I curse you, witch! Murderous she-hound of Hades! I curse you with all the fires of Tartarus! I call upon the Queen of Curses, Persephone Praxidike Chthonios, to—"

A blast of heat rolled through the room, nearly knocking everyone from their feet. Doso rose above them to the rafters, her clothes become flame and ash, her naked form shone with blinding golden light and flaming sheaves of barley. A warm wind blew from the altar and wrapped around her. From the empty air, a red chiton took shape and draped itself around her. Wrinkled skin smoothed and tightened from the worry lines in her forehead to her curled and calloused toes, and color flushed her furious cheeks. Fragile white hair thickened into coppery blonde curls lifted and coifed around a golden diadem. Her green irises burned with rims of gold.

"Ignorant humans!" Demeter's voice resounded throughout the room. Triptolemus and King Celeus immediately dropped to their knees and bowed their heads low. Metaneira staggered and fell to hers. A red mantle with a gold barley border draped around Demeter's body. "Heedless and stupid! Unable to recognize good fortune from bad! You have made a mistake without remedy."

Metaneira bowed her head and cried, clasping her hands, preparing to be immolated by the goddess and her golden fire. "Forgive me, Demeter Anesidora, Goddess of the Harvest, bringer of many gifts! Holy daughter of Great Mother Rhea, I—"

"Silence!" She alighted on the ground, the air around her still flaming with gold. "Foolish woman, you would cast me out as a witch when I saved your children? Then think to curse me with the very name Hades raped onto my stolen daughter's body?!"

"Please, Great Lady of the Harvest, forgive your humble servant's ignorant words! I could not have known it was you!" Metaneira's pleading grew unintelligible, her tongue thickened by her sobbing.

"I swear by the Styx, Metaneira, I would have made your precious son immortal and young all the days of his life. I was not trying to burn him! Not after you had shown me such kindness." She calmed, the fires around her abating as she watched this woman cry and cower before her, much as she had cried and cowered before Zeus in Nysa the night her Kore was taken. She remembered supplicating uselessly to the god she thought had once loved her; the god who betrayed her and her daughter. "Demophon was too far gone with the fever, otherwise I would never have attempted such. Now there is no way to save him from death."

"Please, no!"

"And yet you force me to find a way," Demeter rasped, pacing the floor, "because I swore an oath to you on the Styx that I would not let Hades have him."

"Great Lady," Celeus said, his voice soft and measured, "just name what it is you want us to do— anything at all— and we'll do it. My sons would be dead right now were it not for your kindness and wisdom. I will do anything I can to repay you."

She stilled and the room calmed. In the background Demeter could hear the baby Demophon bawling in his cradle. She slowly walked to the crib and leaned down, picking the infant up in her arms. "Sh-sh shh… they didn't mean to scare you, _glyko agoraki_."

"My Lady—" he started again.

"You will refashion your home, the Telesterion, as my temple. Propitiations from the fruitful earth are the only thing that will save your boy," she said without looking up. Demophon started to calm as Demeter bounced him in her arms. "There, there, precious little one…"

"Fruitful earth? B-but how—"

"I will restore fertility to Eleusis. Only to Eleusis. The crops will call your people home from Ephyra, Thebes and Athens." She walked over to trembling Metaneira and knelt down to her, the baby still in cradled in her other arm. Demeter grabbed her roughly by her chin. "Swear yourself to me," she rasped. "Swear to never call on the servants of the One who stole your daughters and mine _ever again_."

"I swear myself to you and only you, Great Lady," she said, tears still streaming down her face. Demeter put her calmed babe into her arms. "You are wise and merciful."

Let Zeus come to her. If he would not listen, if Aidoneus would not listen, if the other gods would betray her and if lowly tricksters like the sorcerer king of Ephyra would make a mockery of all the deathless ones, then she would restore order. The fertility of the earth was hers. The mortals needed her gifts more than they would ever need thunder and lightning.

_You are the mother of the fertile fields. The earth's people will be your children for all eternity._

Let the people of the earth come to her, until all her children cried out to the heavens in one voice to bring her Kore home. Let Zeus hear them. Let her reign as Queen of the Earth and the Harvest start here.

She walked over to Triptolemus, his head still bowed. "Your son, who believed in me." She let a smile lift a corner of her mouth. "I made him immortal this afternoon. His honor is greatest among you, Celeus, and he will show your people all they need to know to restore your kingdom. Rise, Triptolemus."

Triptolemus felt her hand, warm and comforting on his shoulder. He lifted his head to look upon her true form for the first time. She was radiant. Beautiful. Powerful. A Goddess. Just as he'd seen her in his visions, when her glamour would fade in front of him, allowing him to see her for what she was. He rose to his feet and stood next to her unbowed body, only half a head taller than her now. She smelled like sunshine and freshly threshed fields. "How may I serve you?"

"Well, my Prince," she said with a thin smile. "Your priestess was right all those years ago; you are to become a great teacher of men, after all. And your gifts to them will bring back my Kore."

* * *

**Author's Note:**_ Special kudos to DarkPriestessofHyrule for spotting Achilles' line from the Odyssey as voiced by Ares last chapter. Bonus points to anyone who can spot lines I directly pulled from the Homeric Hymn to Demeter within this chapter. And fear not, my lovelies, Hades and Persephone return next week!_


	27. Chapter 26

Dusk lit the Styx in a brilliant fire of purple and gold, reflecting the colors back into the mists that hung over the palace. Still no Aidoneus. It was the third evening she'd passed without him. The first night she was glad to be alone. Each subsequent night, loneliness and fear grew steadily in her heart.

_Do not forget who you toy with. I am the eldest of the gods…_

When she was a child in Nysa, Persephone had heard how the queen of Olympus grew angry with her husband, continuously shamed and humiliated by Zeus' endless infidelities and the fruit they produced. One night, Hera chained him down to their bed and convinced several of the other immortals to openly rebel against him. Demeter wisely chose to stay out of it. Artemis ran up to Persephone the next day to tell her their father had been freed— that a monstrous, many-armed creature had climbed Olympus in the middle of the night to subdue the rebels and break the chains that bound the King of the Gods.

Her mother had crowed when she learned that Hera was sentenced to be chained in the sky for a year for her impudence. Demeter had taken Persephone on her only memorable visit to Olympus, and could barely restrain her triumphant glee when she swore her and her daughter's undiminished fealty to Persephone's father. Then joy reverted to spite, and her mother had cursed Zeus' name when he took Hera back. She cursed him further still when he went years without taking a woman to bed other than his wife.

Persephone hadn't chained Aidoneus— she'd done worse, by striking him in anger. The shock on his face before she'd screamed at him to leave was the last she'd seen of him. She feared his response, and the delay only made it more terrifying. She was no fool— by every law she knew, Hades could still demand his rights to her body as her husband. But he hadn't come to her to demand anything, and Persephone now worried that his ardent declarations of love had faded into despondency, or worse— hatred.

_I should have never brought you here._

She knew enough about what happened among the mortals— Demeter had at least made sure of that. Insolent wives were punished all the time in the world above, and even a god like Zeus made an example of Hera when she defied him. Even though Aidon had let down his guard, had told her he loved her and thereby left himself raw and exposed for her the night before their fight, she knew that his affection toward her might quickly turn to hostility. Who knew what retribution he had in store for her? He was the master of Tartarus, after all. He'd been separated from the other deathless ones for aeons, from the end of the Titanomachy to the day he came to Olympus claim her as his wife. And at his core, he was a hardened warrior.

She'd had an intimate, deliciously forbidden taste of that part of Hades after their fight, or during their fight— she wasn't sure which was which. The line that divided their anger from their lust had melted in the heat of their coupling. All Persephone knew was that she loved it and hated it equally — she desired the way he'd had her and loathed herself for it all at once. Aidoneus had seemed so pleased and effortlessly in control once they were both sated— so very different from the emotions he'd awakened in her.

She had steeled herself since then, waiting for him to come to her, for what purpose or to what end she knew not. And the more time passed, the thicker she built the protective wall around herself. When Alekto, one of the Erinyes, had descended on her balcony terrace yesterday to deliver Merope from Tartarus, Persephone hadn't even flinched— not even when the beautiful golden-winged daimon of vengeance had smiled at her with rows of sharpened teeth, and carefully arranged shining coils of hair that looked and moved like snakes. Alekto had brandished her bronze-tipped scourge as a sign of respect and addressed Persephone as Praxidike, the name the Hundred Handed Ones had used for her. She simply thanked the daimon and asked her to lay the unconscious nymph on the divan. Hypnos arrived in the afternoon, if the later part of light in the Underworld could be called that, to wake Merope from the deep sleep that had healed her mind enough to restore her to coherency. At Persephone's request, he would be returning with his brother this evening— after she questioned Merope.

Persephone watched the traumatized nymph shudder at her presence as she walked back into the torchlit amethyst room. In all her immortal existence, no one had ever felt fear when they looked at her. She wasn't someone who would have even been respected. Persephone had only ever been Kore— a child woman, living in Demeter's shadow. It was the outside world that was to be feared, a world where venturing from the shelter of Eleusis was forbidden. Now Merope lay in her antechamber, and the emotion that most frequented the nymph's face when she looked at Persephone was terror.

She had covered Merope with a blanket from her own bed. The rescued nymph hadn't stopped shivering since her arrival, and had remained silent all day while Persephone paced from her chamber to the amethyst room and back, wondering if her husband knew that their guest had arrived. Merope's eyes followed her as she approached; her lips looked cracked and raw, the only mar on her otherwise flawless olive-complected skin.

"Please…" Merope said quietly as Persephone stood over her. "Please don't send me back, my queen."

Persephone knelt down next to her. The nymph cowered, shrinking further beneath the blanket. She gave Merope a dry, reassuring smile. "I wouldn't dream of sending you to Tartarus again."

The nymph winced from a pain in her side, and Persephone wished that she had poppies to help ease her discomfort. But, she remembered with a sigh, the nymph before her was dead; and the pain she felt existed only in her mind— in the consciousness of her shade. It would have been far worse without the peaceful sleep provided by Hypnos when she left Tartarus. Persephone started in realization. Merope had spoken to her! All the other shades she had ever encountered here were mute to her ears.

"Why can I hear you?"

Merope looked up at her, wondering if this was a trick question. "I… I did not drink the waters of the Lethe, my queen. My voice, my memories, are still my own."

Persephone sighed. She bristled at the idea that a prisoner of Tartarus knew more about how these things worked than she did. Aidoneus could hear the shades. When they walked to the Styx, he had heard a little girl running across their path and held Persephone back to let her pass before she could even be seen. She shook her head. In the course of her stay, there had only ever been two days worth of meaningful conversation between her and her husband about the workings of his kingdom. One of those days was her ill-fated attempt to run across the River of Forgetfulness.

"How long were you in Tartarus?" Persephone began, silently wondering what she was doing. Who was she to ask these questions anyway, and how would she even know what to ask?

"Three years; maybe longer. It's hard to tell. There is no day or night in Tartarus. The only light is the glow of Ixion's Wheel. My only way to mark time was the Keres leaving for the world above each year when mortals celebrate Anthesteria."

Persephone kept a mental note to ask her husband about Ixion's Wheel and who the Keres were when she next saw him— if she ever saw him. Three years of Tartarus. She stroked the nymph's forehead, brushing back the tight curls of hair from her face. "I'm so sorry. You'll never have to suffer through that again."

Merope squinted at her. "Kore?"

Persephone shivered and drew her hand back.

"Kore, my lady, is that you?"

Her mouth went dry. "H-how do you know me by that name?"

"We played together in Nysa. You and I, and Leucippe, and Ianthe… We were all so young back then— aeons ago, it seems. Your mother asked us to watch over you, and we would keep Apollo and Hermes away. My sisters were there too; Alcyon and Celaeno…"

She looked down, remembering those innocent days of her adolescence amidst the valleys and groves of the gods. Demeter had surrounded her with nymphs, thinking they would provide ample protection from the Olympian men. And, Persephone realized belatedly, they would warn her mother if Hades ever dared to visit her. There were five or six nymphs with her at any given time, cycling throughout her life, their faces and voices interchangeable. She scarcely remembered their names. "Merope, I'm sorry. I— there were so many of us back then…"

The nymph nodded with a smile. "It's all right; I wasn't there for long. Maybe a decade. I wove flowers into your hair a few times."

One of Merope's sisters— or one of the Oceanid nymphs, she hadn't figured out which— got with child by Poseidon, and that promptly ended Demeter's experiment in keeping Kore innocent of the ways of the world. Her rotating troupe of nymphs was disbanded to be replaced with Demeter herself. Cyane, Demeter's faithful servant before she retired and dissipated into a favorite spring, or constant Minthe would watch her when Demeter was called to Olympus. Just a century after the Oceanids left, she had her first flow of moon blood and her mother promptly moved them to Eleusis— the place of her birth.

Persephone continued with a new question. "What happened after you left Nysa?"

"I went back to my mother's home in Thessaly. We lived in a very small village by the sea called Antikera. I watched two of my sisters bear Poseidon's children. Three more attracted the attentions of Zeus and bore his children. I did not want to follow in their footsteps. One day, about twenty years ago, I saw a man riding a horse along the beach near my mother's home. He stopped when he saw me. To me, he was very handsome; not in the usual way, but he was charismatic. Eyes as blue as the Aegean. I ran away from him the first time I saw him, thinking that he would try to force me in the same manner Ares took my elder sister, Asterope. He called out after me, but I was already gone."

"Go on…" Persephone sat on the divan at Merope's slender feet.

"The next day I saw him again, this time staring out at the sea toward the place Ephyra would one day stand. He asked me for my name and I gave it to him, almost without thinking. I was enraptured. He told me his name— Aeolides, son of Aeolus who was king of all Thessaly. He was gentle to me and gave me a polite nod when I refused his kiss. He came to my mother's house asking after me. Not just to take me as a fleeting companion as the gods would, but to make me his wife. I was overjoyed, needless to say. I knew that I would outlive him— he was only mortal after all— but I didn't care. I'm a nymph; our likely lot is to be loved for the length of an afternoon. With Aeolides, I could be loved for thirty or forty years, if the Fates were kind. I could be happy at least for a time.

"For the first few years our lives were beautiful. Aeolides traveled south with many of the slaves his father captured in wartime. We built our beautiful city of Ephyra where farmers had once herded pigs. Aeolus fell into disgrace, so he renamed himself Sisyphus, King of Ephyra, to distance himself from his father's legacy. Our ports were full of gold and saffron, ebony and date plums, and the tax on them made us wealthy beyond my wildest dreams. It seemed like every week he would give me one marvelous trinket or another. One day, Sisyphus woke me by dangling an emerald over me the size of a ripened fig. And so we continued. I happily gave him sons and remained blissfully ignorant of what he was doing."

"What was he doing?" Persephone asked, enrapt with Merope's story. She suddenly felt embarrassed by her innocent isolation all the aeons of her life— the nymph's tale standing in stark relief with her pastoral, sheltered existence.

"Sisyphus was well learned. He had a keen interest in studying things that were a bit more… esoteric. Scrolls arrived with his guests, and they remained with him. Later that I found out that the guests who brought them didn't leave either— at least, not alive. He aged more slowly than other men, but watched me stay evergreen, and would often comment on that fact. When I finally confronted him about our missing guests, and how he had acquired the Book of Tantalus from one of them, he very carefully said that he was devising a means by which he could live with and love me forever. He said that his methods were necessary— if anyone knew of the library of arcane scrolls he had spent years procuring, it would make us vulnerable. Naturally, I trusted him. To my eternal shame, I trusted him."

"Forgive me," Persephone said, "but what is the Book of Tantalus?"

"It was a set of five clay tablets. Written down by Tantalus himself in the old tongue. They explained his philosophies, and buried within his writings were the directions for creating ambrosia and the rituals that grant immortality— closely guarded secrets that only the six Children of Cronus were supposed to possess. He was once a trusted friend of the Olympians, but he secretly despised them. He fed them the flesh of his own son and tried to share the secrets of the gods with all mankind. The book my husband had was the last copy in existence. Sisyphus shared some of its secrets with me, assuring me he trusted me implicitly and said that if I loved him, I should likewise trust him in all things. But he didn't love me. He never loved me. I was a means to an end. A nymph consort for a king who wanted to be a god and hold sway over life and death. It wasn't until I realized that he was trying to bring down the gods themselves that I saw him for what he truly was."

Persephone shuddered. "How can a mortal bring down the gods?" she thought out loud.

_Your parents are Olympians, _Hecate's voice rang in her head, _so you won't ever die, as long as there are mortals who worship you…_

"I may have ended up in Tartarus just the same as him for what I was taught— what forbidden knowledge and heresies I came to believe…"

"It can't be as bad as all that."

"Sisyphus taught me one truth that mortals aren't supposed to know— that the gods need mankind far more than mankind need the gods. The cosmos is a paradox. Gods created the mortals, and mortals created the gods."

The Queen of the Underworld was silent.

"Please don't send me to Tartarus for saying that," she said meekly.

Persephone shook her head. "I can't. In some ways, what you say is true. Not for all gods, but those in the world above need the worship of mortals. And if souls were sent to Tartarus simply because of what they _thought_, then surely the Pit would overflow. So please do not worry. I would never hold against you the things you tell me about Sisyphus." Persephone wondered if these things were also true of her and her husband. She contemplated the idea of existing in a world without mortals and knew she would regret her next question. "Which gods did he speak of?"

"All of them. Ephyra is a busy port; its overland waterway straddles the Isthmus. We had traders sailing through with spices from half the world away. Jewelry. Linen. And they brought their stories with them. There are other lands outside Hellas where the gods have other names. Sisyphus showed me how all are one and the same. Before you came here, the Arcadians and Thracians didn't call you Kore. They called you Despoina. In the easternmost islands of Hellas and the lands of Phrygia your name isn't Persephone— it's Perephatta. Beyond Phrygia, in the crescent land of the two rivers, you are called Ereshkigal. And in the desert sands, across the water to the distant south, you are called Nephthys and also Isis. The stories they tell about you are different, but The Lady Beneath the Earth is one and the same. The same divine role; and in the end, the same destiny…"

Persephone blanched. "But I haven't even been here a month…" she said quietly.

"Is it really so strange, when you are already known in Tartarus?" Merope said. "Where their name for you is Praxidike? When your husband Hades Aidoneus Chthonios— Isodetes, Plouton, Eubuleus, Polydegmon, second only to Zeus, an immortal with a hundred names— rules the place of his namesake?"

She walked to the portico columns leading out to the terrace and stared into the darkness of Hades… Chthonia… Erebus… her realm… her home. All beyond the balcony was oblivion but for the torches and braziers of the palace reflecting in the still waters of the bottomless river Styx.

"Merope, how did you end up on a pyre?" Persephone said, her voice small and shaking as she tried to change the subject.

"Tyro."

"Who…?" Persephone trailed off, coming back into the soft light of the amethyst room.

"The daughter of Salmoneus; who was Sisyphus' brother. My husband wanted to destroy his brother and expand his kingdom, so he lay with Tyro. Unbeknownst to me, he raped two sons onto her who were prophesied to kill Salmoneus and claim his throne for Sisyphus. She murdered them when they were born, then ended her own life, knowing even as she did it that she would be sent to Tartarus as a kinslayer. My lord husband kept his hands clean because he knew the laws of the gods above— what would incite their wrath and what would not. And he knew that even if Tyro did kill their children, his actions would destroy his brother all the same. After I learned of this, I went to his library. He didn't deserve immortality. He didn't deserve to live another wretched day. I destroyed the Book of Tantalus— the tablets that would render him deathless— before he could finish deciphering them."

"And he burned you for it," Persephone said darkly.

"No. He kept me alive— terrified and alive. He threatened that he would kill our youngest son, Glaucus, if I ever questioned him or went into his library again. For years after I destroyed the tablets, I lived in abject fear. I was forced to obey his every whim, fulfill his every need, was to always appear to the public as his dutiful wife and doting queen, the immortal nymph whose sisters had born the progeny of the gods. I appeared less with him in public and he isolated me further still— from our guests, our servants—" her voice hitched. "—our children.

"When statues of him started appearing in the temples in place of Almighty Zeus, I finally understood what he was doing. All his arcane texts, marrying me, then keeping me alive after I betrayed him, his plans had been set in motion long ago. Because he had committed offenses against Zeus himself before he met me, Sisyphus already knew he was bound for Tartarus. He was, he is, terrified of death. If he wasn't able to find a way to make his own soul immortal, he would just use mine instead. Sisyphus wasn't happy just being a king. He wanted to become a god.

"One night he woke up with a great pain in his jaw and thrashed about in bed, howling. The court physician said that the worm had come after one of his teeth and the infection had spread too far to save him. He had that doctor thrown into the sea, and then asked for a second opinion. Our apothecary said that he should make preparations before the illness clouded his mind and told me to leave the room so he could speak to Sisyphus alone. He lived and was appointed the new court physician. At the time, I didn't know why."

The nymph's face contorted in pain and Persephone knelt down once more beside her, stroking her forehead. "I'm sorry I'm forcing you to relive this, Merope. I heard what you screamed out when you were in Tartarus, but you _need_ to have courage and tell me. It's the only way Hades and I can make sure justice is done."

An awareness of her husband, foreboding and familiar, filled Persephone as she invoked his name. She didn't know where he was, but knew he was close by. Her heart started beating rapidly, wondering what purpose brought him close to her room. She could sense sadness and longing, not so very different from the way she could sense him before their argument. Persephone wondered if the other immortals could perceive their mate as clearly as she could hers.

"Merope?" Persephone said again, turning her attention back to her guest. Tears ran down the nymph's sun-kissed face.

Aidoneus listened to their conversation echoing down the hallway, basking in the sound of his wife's voice and her nearness to him. He leaned his cheek against the stone, knowing that Persephone stood on the other side of it. She had referred to both of them together— not by the name he preferred that she called him, but by the name the deceased nymph would know him best. Persephone was acting as Queen of the Underworld— his counterpart in judging souls.

All day he had struggled with what he could say to her, trying to find anything that would keep her here. If she wanted to return to the world above, he would let her. But Aidoneus couldn't just send her back to Demeter. To do so would be to rob her of her divine role just as surely as her mother had all during the aeons she kept Persephone ignorant of whom she really was. This was her home— her realm— as much as it was his. This was her birthright— her place beside him. And listening to her, he finally understood what he needed to say. Hope and realization eclipsed the fear that had plagued him for days. Aidon's heart swelled at the idea of her embracing her role, embracing his realm, and the faint chance that she would embrace him once again.

Persephone cupped Merope's hand between her own and heard a rustle of wings from the terrace. "You need to tell me what he did to you…"

"He drugged me with black henbane and broke my legs so I couldn't escape or cry out. They built me into a pyre in the center of the _agora_, hidden from the view of all. There were rumors that Sisyphus was near death and he wanted all of Ephyra to witness his supposed resurrection. After that, it was as I told you. We burned— _I burned_. He used all the knowledge he had spent his life gathering to steal my immortality and make it his, then placed a glamour on me to fool the judges. I— I died. I was once immortal and _I died_. The illusion lifted only after I took my place— his place— in the Pit, but I was only a faceless shadow at that point, like all the shades in Tartarus."

"It's over now," a soft male voice said. "He'll never touch you again."

Persephone turned to look behind her and saw a young man in a black chlamys leaning against one of the portico columns. He bowed his head to Persephone and brushed his silver hair away from his dark eyes as he met her gaze again. In his hand he carried a long stalk ending in a poppy bulb dripping with sap. She stood and greeted him with a quick nod. "Hypnos."

"My queen. How is she?" He folded his silver wings back and stepped forward. "Does she need to sleep again?"

"No!" Merope yelped. "Please no; you'll bring the nightmares back! I don't need to sleep again, I swear!"

"Ah, I don't think you recognize me, lady. Dreams are the province of my elder brother. I will merely give you peaceful sleep. And don't trouble yourself. I'll talk to Morpheus. Nightmares won't bother you anymore," he said with a smile. "But you know that in the end, only one thing will give you peace."

"What would that be?" Merope said wearily.

"The waters of the Lethe," Aidoneus said quietly from the doorway.

* * *

**Author's Note:** _Kudos to Theisaryz Eufuelle for identifying the quotes from the Homeric Hymn to Demeter in the previous chapter. Yes, I left you with a cliffhanger. Tune in next week to see how it resolves!_


	28. Chapter 27

All eyes turned in Hades' direction. The shadow of a beard covered his face and neck, and a few more of his curls than usual had escaped their bonds. The arm left uncovered by his himation tensed visibly when she looked at him.

Persephone paled, slowly rising to her feet as Hypnos nodded to his king. Her heart beat so loudly she could barely hear anything else. Aidoneus' face was unreadable, and the wall she'd built around herself in his absence immediately rose again. Her only other choice was to cower in fear.

Aidoneus watched hopeful surprise fade from his wife's face and resolve into cold solemnity. He tightened his lips. There was so much damage to be undone. "Hypnos, take Merope to one of the rooms downstairs. I need to speak with my queen alone."

"No," Persephone said, then swallowed hard as his eyes widened. She felt needles poking her stomach and her legs going soft underneath her, but willed her voice to remain steady and strong. "Merope needs to recover, Hades. She endured enough when she was wrongfully imprisoned in Tartarus. I'd at least like to offer my guest the comfort of my antechamber."

She stood tall as Aidoneus took a step closer to her. _The voice of a natural ruler._ He bit the side of his mouth to keep it from twisting into a smile. "Very well…"

The nymph tried to sit up and formally greet the Lord of the Underworld, but grimaced in pain. "Please. Remain where you are," Aidoneus said, crouching down to where she lay. "You are Merope?"

"Yes, my lord."

"I want to offer you my sincerest apologies. I cannot give you back the last three years, two months and five days. But I come asking for your forgiveness nonetheless, and to offer you a gift."

"Please, my lord, I do not seek your apology," Merope said, lowering her eyes since she could not bow her head to him. She blinked and looked up at Hades. "What gift?"

"I want to offer you what I give to all whom I receive: peace. Morpheus can stave off the nightmares of your mortal life while you sleep, but there is only one way that you will be rid of the suffering you endured in the world above. Allow yourself the privilege of letting go and forgetting."

Persephone listened with her hands clasped in front of her to keep from shaking. His mood and motives were still a mystery to her; his two word response to her defiance could mean anything. She stood back as Aidoneus tried to reason with the deceased nymph. She knew Aidon as her lover and husband, but here she was seeing Hades the King. It struck Persephone that while nearly all saw him this way, this solemn face he presented was her first glimpse into his divine role. It also saddened her to think that this cold, rational, emotionless part of him might be the only one he would expose to her ever again.

"My lord, please don't make me drink from the Lethe," Merope begged. "I don't want to let go of my name, my voice, my very form. My sisters, my mother—"

His voice was monotone but gentle. "Without it, I cannot let you roam free in Asphodel, nor can I let your soul return some day to the world above. As you are, you are trapped. Why do you cling to your mortality?"

"Because, my lord, there is so much I simply don't _want_ to forget. The last twenty years— the span of a lifetime for so many mortals— I would gladly drink the waters to escape. But I was immortal once— one of the Pleiades. I've lived for aeons, my lord. I attended to my lady, the Queen, when she was younger."

Aidoneus glanced back and made eye contact with Persephone. She merely nodded at him. Her heart thudded in her chest once more as he rose and moved away from the nymph. Persephone could feel the air sparking between her and her husband as he walked to stand beside her. The final scorching minutes of their last encounter played out in her head in inescapable detail, and frissons of longing and fear coursed through her when his hand accidentally brushed her arm. She was certain Aidon felt her shudder.

"If you drink from the Lethe," he said to the nymph, "you won't be utterly obliterated. Part of who you were will _always_ remain— the parts that give you the most peace. But the pain will be gone."

"Merope," Persephone said, "What is it that you want? If you will not join the souls in Asphodel, what would you have us do?"

"I don't want to forget everything about Sisyphus until I know that justice has been done."

Persephone looked to Aidoneus. He tilted his head toward her. At least for now, she was able to read his face: he was telling her to do what she willed. Merope continued to resist drinking from the Lethe— was there a way to spare her that fearful loss? She inhaled and sighed a long breath before reaching her decision. "You attended to me in life and served as a companion for me. When you fully recover, I will gladly have you as my maidservant."

The nymph smiled and tears of relief welled in her eyes. "Thank you, my queen."

"And I will understand if you change your mind— _when_ you change your mind," Persephone continued. "Because eternity in the Underworld is a long time to hold onto your memories of the world above."

Aidoneus winced as though a needle had been driven through his center, wondering if that was directed at him. He closed his eyes for a moment, out of view from her. He would let Persephone go if she asked. If she wanted to return to the world above, if that was her sincere wish, he was willing to do it for her happiness. Nyx and Hecate be damned. He would still protect her. It didn't take much to imagine himself wearing the Helm of Darkness and visiting the world above to watch over her from afar, much as it would pain him to do so. Hades was certain that fear of his wrath would keep her safe from the appetites of the Olympian gods.

Merope looked to the balcony as a black-winged man carrying a curved sickle alighted and walked in from the terrace. Her breath hitched. Thanatos felt her fear and followed her eyes to the blade in his hand. He leaned down and placed it against the wall. All eyes came to rest on him as he readjusted the pin of his chlamys to sit high on his right shoulder.

"You must be Thanatos." Persephone smiled, noting the resemblance between the brothers.

"I am. And forgive me, my queen," he said falling to one knee, his wings spread low, his head bowed. "My duties in the mortal world delayed me."

Hypnos went to stand next to Thanatos as he straightened, then glared at him. He hated it when his twin was late. Thanatos nodded at his brother with a serious glance that let him know his reasons were genuine this time. _Mostly genuine_, he thought. Eris had been an unforeseen detour.

Persephone found the resemblance uncanny. They were identical but for the opposite coloring of their hair, eyes and wings. Even their subtle mannerisms mimicked one another.

"Thanatos," Merope said, curiously. A smile curled his lips. "_You_ are Death? But I remember seeing you the night you reaped me from the fire. You don't look now as you did then."

"To be fair, my lady," Thanatos said, folding his arms across the front of his chlamys and cocking his eyebrow at her, "neither do you."

They smiled at each other in silence. Thanatos admired her curves under the blanket, taking her in from head to toe, leering as one of his wings lifted.

Aidoneus cleared his throat and narrowed his eyes at him.

"What?" he said, wide-eyed, folding the wing back again.

"Nothing," Aidoneus said grimly. "Try to make sure it stays that way."

Thanatos rolled his eyes.

"You are _such_ a whore," Hypnos said under his breath as he grinned.

"Oh, you're one to talk." Thanatos said aloud, clicking his teeth together. "What was your plan to find Sisyphus again? Your… _connections_ with the stable master or the keeper of the andron? Or was it the cook's nephew?"

"We'll see when we get there," he replied, his grin turning sheepish.

"Ah," he said knowingly to his twin.

"Thanatos," Persephone said with her arms folded across her chest. She could feel Aidoneus' eyes boring into the back of her head. "I assume you've had a chance to come up with a plan since you spoke with your brother this afternoon?"

"Well, my queen," he said with an uncharacteristically warm smile, "I think that my brother and I, if my queen will permit it, should stay here and question your honored guest. There are rumors that Sisyphus can now travel short distances through the ether. If he can, we will need to work fast. Hopefully, we can take him by surprise."

"I need you to bring Sisyphus to judgement. Quickly," Persephone said, stepping toward him. "Without harming any of the mortals, if at all possible. Find him and bring him before us so he can answer for his crimes against Merope and his sins against my husband."

Aidon swelled with pride and felt a faint flicker of hope— the first he'd felt in days.

"We'll find him, my queen. He's made quite a spectacle of himself already. Our best hope is that he won't even see us coming. Because if he does, he could be halfway to Illyria before we can catch up with him again," Hypnos responded. He leaned down to Merope. "Are you rested enough to answer a few more questions?"

The nymph nodded, still mesmerized by Thanatos as he smiled at her. The three were soon embroiled in a conversation about the palace's hidden passageways.

"Persephone?"

Persephone turned around to face Aidon. His demeanor was taciturn, his lack of expression completely hiding his intent from her. "Yes?"

"May I still speak with you in private?"

She bit her upper lip and glanced back at the double doors leading to her bedroom.

"Not there," he said. _And certainly not with these three on the other side of the door_. No matter how this resolved, he didn't want a spectacle made of it— especially not in front of their new guest. Looking around the antechamber gave him an idea as to where they should go instead. Aidoneus offered her his arm. "Would you care to walk with me?"

Persephone gingerly took it. Both of them nodded to Hypnos and Thanatos as they left the room. She swallowed hard and tried to keep her hand from shaking as it rested in the crook of his elbow. It was the first time she had touched him since her hand connected with the side of his face three days ago. He remained silent. She guessed that he was either as apprehensive about seeing her as she was him, or he was quietly devising an appropriate punishment for her and wanted to have Persephone alone to carry it out. Perhaps he thought she would make a scene. Nothing she could guess was much comfort, and the uncertain silence between them made it worse.

Her eyes were cast down and followed the mosaic tile on the floor to where it ended at the threshold. They stepped through an open doorway and heard the drumming of the falls. A long open hallway stretching across the cliffside, its columns carved from the granite itself. Torches flared along its length and Persephone could hear the waterfall on the other side of the palace grow louder. The normally dead air become more lively as they approached the rushing water and the breeze that blew across her face was soothing and reminded her of a cool evening in the world above. But there were no stars here. The darkness beyond the hallway was all encompassing.

"Where are we going?" she said, already knowing the answer. She had felt him approach her room from this hallway many times and guessed that his chambers must be at the other end.

"To the antechamber outside my bedroom." He stopped. "Is that alright with you?"

She paused for a moment, trying to read his inscrutable face in the flickering torchlight.

His eyes darted away from her. "If that's too much to ask right now—"

"No, it's— it would be good to have some privacy," she said. "Can we stay here for a minute? I've seen this hallway from my room, but I've never walked it."

"Of course."

They both leaned against the stone ledge, side by side in silence. He stole a glance at her every so often. The jeweled brooches he'd given her weren't there. Instead, she wore simple golden pins to hold up her chiton, which was a rich burgundy tonight. No asphodel flowers crowned her head. Instead, she'd braided her hair back and wound it into a chignon with a simple ribbon that matched her dress. Even so plainly adorned, she was the most beautiful creature he'd ever seen. He ran his hand over his rough face and thought about what a frightful vision his sleep-deprived, neglected person must be to her.

Finally Aidon could stand their silence no longer. "I have something I want to show you."

She held her breath and turned to him. Aidoneus withdrew a single blossom from the folds of his himation and held it out for her examination. The center was a mass of tiny golden anthers and its petals bloomed in a brilliant shade of red, even in the low light. She gently took it from him and turned it over in her hand, her thumb tracing the edges of each of the six waxy points that lay behind the soft bloom. "Is this what I think it is?"

"Yes."

"So they _did_ flower," she let a smile spread across her face. For a brief moment, her fear was forgotten. She thought about Aidon holding her in the grove the first time they recognized the trees for what they were.

"And you were right about what they are," he said, cautiously smiling at her reaction. "We grew pomegranate trees in the Underworld."

"We—" She startled and looked up at him slowly. "Wait; Aidon, we only… We're just dreaming about these, aren't we?"

He stared back at her, his face softening as he shook his head, "No. We didn't _just_ dream about them."

"But how…" She said, her stomach fluttering in shock and delight that this was even possible.

"I don't know. No one knows. Not Morpheus, not Hecate— even Lady Nyx had no idea why this happened when I brought you here," he said quietly. He had to ask, to confirm his suspicions. "Do you still see them in your dreams?"

"Infrequently. For only an—"

"—an hour at a time or so?"

She paled, her breath hitching. "How did you know?"

"Because I've barely been able to stay asleep for that long since—" he looked away from her, not wanting to bring up their fight just yet. He hoped this distraction from _that_ inevitable conversation could continue just a bit longer. "When I did sleep, I dreamed of them."

"This is impossible. I can't grow anything down here, and believe me, I've tried."

He cupped her hand from underneath, holding it and the blossom aloft. "This is proof that you did; that we did. For me to do such a thing on my own is impossible— here _or_ in the world above."

"But…" she started, "that's not true. After you came to me in Eleusis, my shrine was covered in asphodel. You left the flowers for me when I awoke."

He smiled. "As much as I would have loved to have done that for you, I wasn't the one who grew them. It was you."

She looked up at him in disbelief.

"Persephone, my intention that night was to introduce myself to you as your betrothed husband. I didn't anticipate, much less plan on, arriving in the dream already embracing you. And from your reaction, I don't think you expected to see me that way either."

_That's not necessarily true_, she thought, chewing on her lip. Persephone drew her hand away from his and felt heat wash over her from her stomach to her face. "Aidon, I visited a mortal wedding that day in Eleusis. It was the first time I'd ever witnessed… what happens between men and women. That night I had gone to sleep thinking about it, wishing to dream about what it would be like with— with _my_ husband."

He fought to suppress a smile. She _had_ brought them together intimately. But in truth, he had too, though the desire had been buried in his heart, disconnected from his conscious mind. "When we came together that night, something happened. Something… unexpected and beautiful, honestly— and it carried itself with you when I brought you here as my wife. The pomegranate grove should not be possible. Those trees are alive— well and truly alive, and every other thing growing in the Underworld is not."

"How do you know?"

"Early this morning I went to the grove, and underneath a fallen petal I discovered living soil, new shoots of grasses— things that haven't existed in the Underworld since Chaos formed it. I don't know what to make of it, but—" He turned away from her again and stared out into the darkness. "I honestly hope to reconcile with you, and maybe we can find those answers together."

His clumsy earnestness finally revealed to her what she had been seeking behind the mask he'd worn all evening. Her fingers tapped on the ledge once more before she leaned away from it and stepped back from him. "Th-that is my hope as well. Maybe it would be wise for us to— to speak in private?"

Aidon turned and offered his arm once more. "Our destination is… acceptable to you?"

"Well, what could be more private than your own antechamber?" she said quietly as she held the flower in her hand. "I haven't even seen your quarters."

"No," he said with a brief smile. "You haven't."

She placed her arm within his and walked, thinking about the first dream they shared. _When we have each other, it should be in the proper place— in my own bed, after I've claimed you. _His last words to her the night they met suddenly felt like ice pouring down her back. Perhaps he was going to assert his rights to her after all. Maybe that was what Aidoneus meant by wanting to reconcile with her. And here she was encouraging him.

* * *

**Author's Note: **_I am thrilled to announce that Gumdrop Boo has graciously lent her incredible talents to create fan art for Receiver of Many! I loved her stunning concept art for Kore, and posted a link to it in my profile. Please check it out, and I'll see you next Wednesday._


	29. Chapter 28

Aidon pushed open one side of a heavy ebony double door. The wood surfaces were intricately inlaid with gold in the shape of the great poplar tree that stood at the palace entrance. A stylized meandros of sapphire and lapis lazuli flowed like a river at the base of the door underneath the poplar tree. They walked into the dimly lit room and he closed it behind him. Persephone shuddered, trying to let her eyes adjust as the latch clicked into place. The same elaborate design was inlaid on the other side of the door.

He licked his suddenly dry lips, looking up at the design as he took the Key of Hades off his left hand. Aidon wanted to be alone with her— without the constant throng of voices from Asphodel and Tartarus. He spoke quietly. "I've had a lot of materials to work with over the aeons and created most of the palace, but I'm not half the craftsman that Hephaestus is when it comes to shaping metal. He gifted these doors to me a few centuries ago when I—"

"I don't want to have sex with you tonight."

He flinched and stood there for a long moment before he turned to her. "Excuse me?"

"I—" she looked down at her clasped hands, fearing that she was treading on very dangerous ground. "If that's why you originally thought to bring me here. I know you are m-my lord husband, but…"

_Idiot!_ he thought to himself. _Of course she would think that all you wanted to do was bed her. You hauled her straight to your private rooms, for Fate's sake…_

He turned away so she couldn't mistake his annoyance with himself for anger at her. Aidon clinked the heavy rings together, rolling them in his hand before setting them on the ledge next to the door.

"I think I gave you the wrong impression, Persephone. The only thing I wanted tonight was to finally speak with you again. Sex is the furthest thing from my mind, right now." _Liar_, he thought. _When is making love to her ever far from your mind?_

With a flick of his wrist, the torches on the wall flared to life one by one and illuminated the room. She smelled ignited pitch and the faint hint of date plums and olive oil. On the floor of the antechamber, black, blue and white marble formed a mosaic that mapped out the rivers and marshes, the palace, the fields and groves of Chthonia, their names marked in ancient glyphic letters that she didn't recognize.

The borders of the ceiling were low and hewn in white marble, but a central dome swept high overhead in a deep black obsidian. Bits of gold and small diamonds studded it here and there, flickering in the torchlight like stars. When she saw the constellations of the Hunter and the Bear, she realized that Aidon had set each one of them in the exact arrangement of the sky in the world above. She peered up at it with a mix of wonder and unease. She tried to imagine how long it must have taken to place each diamond star in the obsidian heavens above them, and to perfectly recreate them from memory. Behind a set of sheer indigo curtains, the room opened to an outside terrace where she could hear the falls and feel their cool mist even where she stood. Two ebony divans sat facing each other, covered with soft black sheepskins, their backs draped in fine indigo-dyed linen. Her version of this room was smaller and meant for one, furnished with a single couch, and she gathered that these quarters were not meant for Aidoneus alone.

He stayed quiet as Persephone timidly took in her surroundings. "How can I trust that you didn't bring me to your room for that? For… sex?"

"You can't," he said without even a hint of emotion in his voice. "As you have said, I am full of riddles, and partial truths, and evaded questions, no? I've given you no cause to trust me."

She wasn't expecting that, and looked at him wide eyed. His face remained calm; hers burned at his bold words. Persephone walked into the center of the room and stood near one of the divans, her face the same color as the red flower in her hand. She stared down at it, not wanting to lift her gaze, to answer his indirect accusation, or address her embarrassing one. "Y-you created our rooms rather far apart when you made them. The hallway we walked through was almost as long as the palace."

"That wasn't meant to be your room forever."

"What do you mean?"

"When I built it, my intention was to make sure there was a place in the palace for you to call your own when you came here to be my queen. Somewhere for you to stay as long as you needed until you were ready. That is, until you were comfortable enough to come to me of your own accord. At least that was my plan." He looked at her warily then shook his head. "Obviously, the Fates have never had much use for my plans."

"So, right now, we are in our… yours and my…"

"Yes." She sat down and folded her hands in her lap, carefully holding the blossom so she wouldn't fidget. He remained standing— restraining the urge to pace about. "I didn't take you here to cajole you into staying in this room, either. If we cannot reconcile what happened and fix this tonight, then I'll gladly walk you back. Or you can go alone; whichever pleases you. Even if we do find a way to mend this, and you're still uncomfortable in my presence…"

"How can we even begin to mend this, Aidon?"

"You can start by trusting me," he said. She opened her mouth to speak again, but he held his hand up and silenced her with his next sentence. "Wait. I _know_ that you don't trust me; I know _why_ you don't trust me. So if my evasiveness has harmed you, harmed us, then please allow me to put it an end to it for you. Forever."

"How?"

"Ask me anything."

"Anything?"

"Persephone I promise that— No…" He straightened his shoulders and looked her in the eye. "Persephone, I swear to you on the great River Styx that I, Hades Aidoneus, firstborn son of Cronus, will answer plainly and truthfully anything you ask of me from this moment forth."

Persephone raised her eyebrows. "Anything…"

"Yes."

"Why did you abduct me?" she started without preamble.

He knew she must be full of questions, but was taken aback by the suddenness of her asking. When he considered how many questions she must have built up within her all this time, fears started to well up. Aidoneus silenced them. He loved her. He'd sworn an oath to her. He was ready to answer anything for her. "I spoke precipitously when we fought but the reasons I gave for taking you here were the absolute truth. I didn't want to lose you; not when I was… when I was falling for you. If I had arrived too late, or if we hadn't consummated our marriage as soon as I had you with me, then I would have only been able to sit under the shade of your branches and mourn you forever."

She looked down, "So what you told me— what my mother was going to do to keep me with her…?"

"I'm so sorry."

She clenched her jaw and turned away from him. Aidoneus took one step toward her, then drew back. He let Persephone feel her anger and sadness, own it, strengthen from passing through it, and didn't move to comfort her just yet. There would be time enough for that.

"Your mother was coming for you, and I needed to reach you first, before she did something all of us would regret for eternity. Hecate warned me of the danger. She knows everything that transpires within the ether, and when she heard Demeter's wail of grief at losing you, she knew your mother's reason had been overtaken, and Hecate cried out in pain from the shock of it. I'd never seen her respond so acutely to a vision as she did that day. She wrenched me away from you at my grove in Nysa when I wanted so badly to stay— because I had to save you."

She sat silently for a moment and forced the tears back. Could his words be true? Aidoneus had sworn an unbreakable oath on the Styx that he would tell her the truth. It must be true. "Then, are we actually married, Aidon? Or did you just… have me… and later call me your wife?"

"Your father, the God of Gods, said that I should find you and bring you to my home, that you were already my wife in all but deed. He told me this before I came to you in Eleusis. We were husband and wife by the word of Olympus before I even laid eyes on you."

"Why was there no ceremony?"

He shrugged at her, incredulously. "We're gods. We need no ceremony. To whom would we swear ourselves?"

"But what about Aphrodite and Hephaestus?"

He snorted. "Empty pageantry. And everyone knows how well _that_ arrangement has turned out. The Blacksmith is one of the few Olympians I actually respect. But that poor man's been shamed and cuckolded so many times by that wife of his, I fear I'm the only one left who does."

"Is there any ceremony that we _could_ have had?"

"I know of none. Zeus came to Hera in the guise of an injured bird and simply claimed her. And as for the traditions of the mortals— you _did_ come to my sacred grove with a bridal wreath of laurels in your hair. But I wasn't about to grab you by the wrist and drag you like a sack of grain from your father's _oikos_ to my bedroom the way the city folk do." He smiled wryly and paced across the room as he thought. "Those who work the land still respect the old ways, but you and I are not peasants. As for the immortals, there is one… ritual. It's not necessarily a marriage _ceremony_, though. And— it's not for us. At least not right now."

"What is it and why can't we have it, then?"

"It's called the _hieros gamos_," Aidoneus said, watching Persephone carefully cradle the pomegranate flower in front of her. "The great rite of sexual and spiritual union between our kind. It's a creation act that very few have participated in, and even fewer have practiced it for its intended purpose. That first night we all met on Olympus, it was your mother and father's participation in that ritual that created you. I know the _foundations _of the rite, but I've not been made entirely aware of its particulars— something about twin souls, opposites working as one, conjunction and transcendence. Those are Hecate's words, not mine. You'd have to ask her if you wanted to know more. But I do know that for the ritual to work as it was intended, it requires that we love each other, wholly and completely."

She swallowed and looked away from him again. "Do you love me, Aidoneus?"

"Yes," he said without hesitation.

"Why?"

"Persephone, I could give you a hundred answers about your beauty, your wit and curiosity, your strength, and any number of other things, but the simplest one I have is that you make me feel alive. And as I'm sure you can guess from seeing the realm I've called my home all these aeons… that's not an easy thing to do."

"Do you love me because of the golden arrow?"

"No. I loved you far before that."

"Then why did Eros shoot you with it?"

He bristled. "Zeus told that little winged demon to do it. I think your father thought, in his own way, that it would help me court you."

"Had you ever courted another woman?"

"No. I had never sought out nor coupled with a woman before you. Which is probably why Zeus thought it would be a good idea to shoot me," he chortled. "Truthfully, I've often wondered at what would have happened if he hadn't. I fear I would have been a rather cold husband to you. I often worry that I still am."

"I don't think you are," she said softly, shaking her head. They smiled thinly at each other. She remembered how confidently he had spoken to Merope, and how vulnerable he seemed with her now. She was perhaps the only being in the cosmos to truly know Hades for who he was. "What did the arrow do to you then, if it didn't make you love me?"

"It unlocked something within me— lust, certainly— and also the _capacity_ to love, perhaps?" He paused for a moment and thought on this, remembering the revelations that had struck him so profoundly during their fight. "I had already made up my mind to finally take you as my wife. I wanted you with me after I knew you'd reached majority, and spent millennia wondering how I should go about courting you. I didn't know what it was that I felt. I had no way to recognize it until after I caught the arrow. When I did, I felt this… fire… rush through my veins. It smoldered and became an obsession. I thought that seeing you in the safety of the dream world would resolve it. It didn't, and what I felt after I held you bordered on madness. I couldn't think of anything else but having you in my arms again. And that fire burned unabated until I finally joined with you."

She shivered and felt her skin start to prickle. Persephone dropped the pomegranate flower in her lap and brought her hands around her arms reflexively, as though she were trying to warm the rest of her body until it matched the heat burning low in her belly. "I… I almost wish that I had been shot with it. Maybe it would be easier for me to—"

"I wouldn't have wished that sudden insanity on anyone. Least of all you. The golden arrow is a _weapon_. And one that I thought too potent to risk anyone finding or using, especially down here. It's why I kept it on my person. I consider myself lucky that I saw it coming before it pierced my heart. The potency of the arrow striking true would have driven me to… couple with you immediately."

She blushed at her own thoughts, hoping he didn't notice the heat seeping into every part of her body. Persephone pictured Hades rampant and priapic, out of his mind with need, searching all over Hellas for her and pulling her away from the Eleusinian wedding without a single word. She imagined him carrying her off over his shoulder and laying her down in a field of soft grass and poppies, his lips trailing across every inch of her. Her fingers tensed, as though they were digging into the sinews of his sun-warmed shoulder blades, the cool grass on her back, the breeze fanning their burning skin. Aidoneus cradled her neck with one strong hand, locked her legs around his waist with the other, and made her his— slipping in and out of her in a rhythm as old as time, until narcissus, crocuses and larkspur blossomed all around them. While that would have frightened her unimaginably that day, the fantasy set her aflame. Persephone shifted uncomfortably on the divan. It had been three days since he last touched her.

"You said you loved me before you were shot," she said, desperately trying to push those thoughts from her mind. "How long?"

He sighed. "There's no easy way to answer that. I was often and _correctly_ referred to as cold and hard-hearted for most of my life. I buried the need to experience love, and with it every other emotion, so I could survive— so _all of us_ could survive. And that instinct didn't leave me once my imprisonment and the war were ended. But throughout the aeons it took to accept the lot I received, I would often reflect on who you would one day become— and how very much you would mean to me. I often thought about you. I even… I dreamed about you sometimes. If that was… as close as I could come to feeling love, then…" He trailed off and looked down. He'd swore on the Styx to tell her.

"How long?" she whispered.

"Persephone…" Hades Aidoneus waited, made sure his wife's eyes met his, that he had her full attention before he dared to say it. "Persephone, I have loved you and only you for forty thousand years. And I will love you and only you until the stars are shaken out of the sky."

She took in the full weight of what he said and blinked back tears, wondering how someone who called himself cold and hard-hearted could say that— or feel that. Hades had loved her since she was born. Since before she was born— since the moment she, Persephone, came into existence. "Aidon," her voice finally cracked from her dry throat, "I don't know what I can say to that. I mean, what _can_ I say? Compared to how long you've… loved me, I've only known you for the blink of an eye. Do you think me cold?"

"No," he said, pacing away from her and looking at the floor. "Maybe. I can be patient, though. I've waited this long, haven't I?" he said with a pained smile. "But with every fiber of my being, I know what you feel for me. And I should never have demanded that you voice it; that's for you to decide when you're ready. It was arrogant and presumptuous of me to force it from you. For that, I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry I slapped you; and I'm sorry for the things I said to you in anger," she blurted out in return. Aidon cautiously sat down on the divan across from her and leaned forward.

"Well, I wasn't too happy about you striking me," he said, eyebrows raised, "but I'm quite sure that a few things I said to you in the heat of the moment were _unpardonable_. Believe me, for your part you're forgiven."

"No, Aidon, they weren't… unpardonable. I mean, you _were_ repeating my words." She relaxed, her worst fears unfounded and dissolved. She looked down at the pomegranate blossom and nervously picked it up once more. "I was so afraid of you after I struck you. That's why I screamed for you to leave."

"Why were you afraid of me?" he said softly.

"Because of how you could have punished me."

"Punish—" He drew back in disgust. "I would never do such a thing. As for the slap and what I said to earn it, I honestly mistook our… ahhh… _way of resolving_ our argument for forgiveness. I was caught up in lust, and didn't realize you were still upset at me," he said. Aidon closed his eyes. "I acted like a beast."

"Did… did you enjoy it?" she said meekly.

_Gods above, I'm only male_, he thought. _Of course I enjoyed it_. "Persephone, I—" Aidoneus pinched the bridge of his nose with his fingers before running his hand back through his hair. "Listen, I'm not going to bend my oath to you any further than this, but could you _please_ do me a favor?"

"Yes?"

"Can you answer that question before I do?" he said, visibly wincing.

"I…" Her cheeks flushed a deep pink and she worried her bottom lip between her teeth. It was all the answer Aidon needed. They shyly looked away from each other, both aflame with the memory of it.

He spoke first. "Obviously not the circumstances, but I enjoyed the passion of it."

Persephone nodded, still avoiding his gaze. "Same for me," she muttered under her breath. "But… I feel like I shouldn't have."

He cleared his throat and folded his hands in front of him. "Well, this is _our_ marriage. I'm fairly sure that _we_ get to decide what things we should and shouldn't enjoy."

"That's not how it works, you know."

He looked up at her, their eyes meeting once again. "How so?"

"The husband decides the workings of the marriage." She swallowed. "I mean, I was actually surprised that you didn't come to my bed these past three days. You were within your rights to—"

"This is not the world above," he raised his voice pointedly, interrupting her with an irritated glare, then shook his head. "The scales have been tipped so far out of balance, and my realm deals with the _consequences_ of that disparity daily. Females are chattel up there, and it's getting worse every century. I'd betray every principle I ever held if I consigned you to that lot."

"My mother, the rest of the gods, they don't see it that way."

"The Olympians see the souls for a few fleeting years. I spend aeons dealing with their problems when they come here, and trust me, the mortals' lives are a mess."

"I know nothing else, though, and I don't understand why you are so convinced that things should be different."

"Because I'm not like the other gods, Persephone."

"But Aidon, you do realize that I would expect you to say something _exactly_ like that to try and win me over?"

He scowled for a moment, then thought about it. Of course she would think that; it was natural for her to mistrust him. He thought about the brave face she put on when he spoke of Zeus abandoning her mother for Hera. He thought about the cavalcade of nymphs surrounding her throughout her adolescence that served as nothing more than playthings for the immortals. "I'll spend all the aeons this world has left proving you otherwise."

"You are not the only god who has tried to win over his wife. The Oceanids told me that when Poseidon courted Amphitrite, she refused him, saying that he couldn't remain faithful to her. He spent _centuries_ pursuing her. He said he would swear off all else, and would make her his consort. She eventually relented and married him. But she was a nymph of the sea and after the challenge of winning her was over, he tired of her and moved on. I know I'm not a nymph, but my divine role before I met you was so minor I might as well have been. What is to say that you won't tire of me?"

"Impossible. And to lay your fears to rest, let me assure you Persephone, you occupy no minor position in my life. You are my equal."

She blinked at him, wondering if she'd heard him correctly. "I cannot be your equal, Aidoneus. Three gods rule the cosmos. You, my father, and Poseidon. I hold no significance at all."

"Up there, perhaps. But you are with me, and the ways of the world above do not hold any sway down here. Persephone, everything I can possibly share with you is yours. In your own right, you are a goddess of the earth. But as long as you are with me, you will be queen of everything that lives and moves about, and you will have the greatest honor in the company of the immortals. Hera herself does not have even a _fraction_ of what I wish to share with you."

She looked away from Aidoneus, shaking her head and set the flower beside her on the divan before she bruised its petals any more than she already had.

"Sweet one, I do not want your place here to be ceremonial or merely as my consort. I want you to rule _with_ me."

"It's just not how it's done…"

"This is how it _was_ done. It is the old way— the way things were before my father's tyranny. And we rule a kingdom populated by old gods— far older than the Olympians. But by virtue of us being here, you and I are not Olympians anymore. You were born for this. The Underworld is _our _kingdom. Its rules are whatever _we_ say they are, and it needs a Queen that sits as an equal to its King."

She felt her mouth go dry.

"I forget these things sometimes; I let the ways of the world above, the way I spent the first half of my life, influence me too greatly. I should have told you the whole truth the moment I swept you into my chariot. I should have trusted you. You are not a little girl that needs to be sheltered— that much is plain and evident by the strength you possess and the responsibilities you've placed on your shoulders of your own accord. Doubting you, underestimating you, was my gravest mistake."

"So your solution to my… insignificance— and before you say anything, that's honestly what I am compared to you, if you asked anyone in the world above— your solution is to _make_ me your equal?"

"I don't have to _make_ you anything," he said, taking her hands in his. "What I'm saying, Persephone, is that you already _are_ my equal."

She laughed nervously, wondering if he was truly out of his mind, driven to madness by his long years of isolation from the world above. She looked above them at the intricately arranged diamonds overhead.

"Is it really so strange for you to hear? You and I know what _they_ said to you." His voice grew low and serious.

She shuddered, remembering the Hundred Handed Ones, the many voices of the one called Kottos calling her full name from the Pit— calling her their queen. She thought about everything Merope had told her. "You really do see me as more than just your consort?"

"Why shouldn't I?" He gingerly ran his thumb across her knuckles, tracing each soft rise and depression, searching Persephone's face as he spoke to see if this small display of affection would be acceptable to her. He would understand if it were not. "Only the Queen of the Underworld could have commanded the Hundred Handed Ones as you did. Only a true ruler of Chthonia could have comforted a misplaced soul. And only Persephone, She Who Destroys the Light, is brave enough to tell Thanatos, Death himself, upon meeting him for the first time, what his orders were and the speed at which he should carry them out for her," he said with a playfully wolfish grin.

"You want me to rule beside you as an equal, even if it means that you must give up—"

"Sweet one, I'm not giving up anything. I have my place and always will. Your place was waiting for you. This realm _needs_ a Queen— needs _you_ as its Queen. And you, Persephone, have started stepping into your role with very little effort on my part and in so much less time than it took me to embrace who I was fated to be. You've accomplished in less than a month what stubbornly took me aeons," he said. Aidon squeezed her hands lightly, his thumbs now winding circles around the base of each of her fingers. "You are not the screaming Kore I pulled into my chariot."

It felt strange to hear the name she had answered to in the world above pass through his lips, and the newness of it sent a thrill through her. Not because she wanted him to call her that, but because she knew he never did and never would. Kore was not who she was anymore. He had seen that from the first. Aidoneus was the only being in existence who didn't see her as a child. He'd had his moments treating her as such, and it was those times that he angered her the most. His calloused thumbs traced the contours of her hands. Here he sat across from her, the Lord of the Underworld, rightful ruler of one third of the cosmos, treating her as his queen— no— as his mate and his equal. In all the time spent growing up and the millennia she walked the earth as the Maiden of the Flowers, she had never embraced her role in the world above with nearly as much passion as she had down here. She was Persephone Praxidike Chthonios. The Queen of the Underworld. And, she thought with a delighted quiver, the Queen of Hades, her husband.

Maiden no more.

Persephone stood up in front of Aidoneus and put her hands on his shoulders. He looked up at her from where he sat, not moving, not even breathing. She could easily read the fear in her husband's face. He thought he'd said something wrong, had touched her too much, that she was getting up to leave, and would never enter this room or his private life again. The fear of losing Persephone forever was written in his eyes and across his forehead, though he was trying so very hard to mask it. And she knew just how to dispel those fears.


	30. Chapter 29

Taking a step away from him, she reached behind her back and started untying the ribbon that girded her waist. Aidon didn't believe what he was seeing at first. "Persephone…"

Her heart raced for him, and it didn't stem from any acquiescence or submission to him, nor any seduction. She desired Aidoneus completely and wanted to claim him as hers. He stared up at her, confused. She said nothing and let the girdle fall to the floor.

"Persephone, what are you…"

His breath hitched when she pulled the fibulae away from her shoulders and let the entire length of her chiton fall to her feet. She flung the pins out in either direction, hearing each one bounce across the stone floor on either side of the room. Her husband sat in stunned silence. She looked down at him. His breathing was shallow, his eyes squeezed shut. Persephone stood there, watching as his brow furrowed, his knees shook.

"Aidon…" she whispered, "open your eyes."

_This is a test_, he thought. _She's testing my restraint… Fates, help me, I've gone too long without her…_ Aidoneus tilted his head up before he looked, hoping that what met his gaze would be his wife's face, and not the curve of her hips or, Gods help him, her breasts. It made little difference anyway— her scent enveloped him. He stared directly into her eyes and whispered back to her. "What are you doing?"

"I am your wife, am I not?" she said softly and moved one knee onto the divan beside his hip, then brought up her other leg until she straddled him and settled in his lap.

"You are," his voice ground out, trying desperately to ignore the heat of her body pressing against his stomach. "But—"

She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him softly on the lips.

"—Persephone—"

She kissed him again.

"—you said—"

She kissed his neck.

"Persephone, stop! Please…" His voice rose to an anguished peak, his face contorted and unsure. He was still too afraid to look anywhere but at her face.

She pulled back and looked into his eyes, unnerved by the fresh tension in his body and voice. "Yes?"

"What are you doing?" he repeated, his tone tempered but still strained. "You told me _very clearly_ that you didn't want to have sex with me tonight. I'm bound to honor that, but… I…"

"My sweet Aidoneus," she said, brushing her hand across his worried forehead. She stroked her fingers over his scalp until they reached the clasp holding back his raven black curls. She pulled it loose and heard it hit the floor twice and roll away. "I don't want to have sex with you."

Frustration licked through him. "Then _why_ are you—"

"I want to make love to you," she silenced him, watching his eyes go wide. "And, and I want to…" Persephone swallowed and looked away, embarrassed before leaning closer to his ear with a fevered whisper. "And I want to fuck you."

He felt lightheaded. Blood rushed from every part of his body to his loins so quickly he might have collapsed if he wasn't already leaning back into the cushion of the divan. That word had never sounded so innocent or full of promise as when she whispered it. His fingers dug and twisted into the fiber of the sheepskin pelts underneath him. He refused to touch her just yet, instead enjoying the return of her soft lips to his, the taste of her tongue as she explored his mouth. Her hands caressed the sides of his face and brushed over the stubble on his cheeks and neck. She threaded her fingers through his hair, tilting his head back. Aidon shrank away from her. "Wait."

Persephone cupped his face in her hands. "My husband… it's alright. In case there was any doubt in your mind, I forgive you for everything you said… everything we did. Do you forgive me?"

"Of course I forgive you. But why now, Persephone? Why are you doing this?"

"Because I can trust you now. Do you want me in your bed tonight?"

"I would be lying if I said no."

"Aidon." She moved to kiss him again, but kissed the bridge of his nose as he leaned away at the last moment. "Aidon, I want this. Please. You are the only person I've ever had in my life who has treated me as anything other than a child. I can see it in your eyes— when you look at me, you see a woman. You love me; you _actually_ love me. And not as your bedmate or your queen consort even, but as your… your…"

"Goddess," he finished.

She ran her fingers through his hair. "I would never toy with your heart. But until I truly understand what I feel," she said, her voice cracking, "can I at least _try_ to love you the best way I know how? If you don't want this, if this is too much for you…"

He looked into her pleading eyes once more and let go of the pelt covering the divan. His hands moved slowly over her thighs, and almost shook when they reached her hips, before finally encircling her waist. Persephone kissed him again, and Aidoneus met her with equal fervor this time, embracing her, his fingers tracing the ridges of her spine. She scraped her fingernails over his scalp and let them tangle at the nape of his neck once more to tilt his head back. She leaned over him as his arms locked around her bare skin and pressed her to his chest. Her lips came away from his and he whispered softly to her. "What way would you have me, my queen?"

She pulled away and looked down at him, his eyes heavily lidded. "In your room—"

"Our room."

"In our room," she said, smiling. "Laying on _our_ bed."

She pulled away from him, so he could stand up. He looked down at her and took her hand, bringing it up to his lips and kissing the back of her fingers before leading her to the carved ebony door on the opposite end of his— _their_ antechamber.

He pushed open the door and Persephone felt warmth flood out from inside. Unlike her room, or even the soaring vault of his antechamber, the ceiling was lower here— more intimate. It and the walls were embedded with innumerable large chunks of resinous amber, each piece a captured portrait of seeds and ferns, insects and leaves, and other once-living things now preserved forever in time. Their trapped figures danced and flickered in the light of a low fire burning on a raised obsidian hearth in the center of the room. The bedroom smelled of ancient evergreens, cypress, cedars, musk and spices that were all at once masculine and foreign. She shivered, feeling enveloped by aeons of his presence here. The fire consumed no fuel, but Persephone didn't have to ask him how it burned. After the freezing night they spent in Nysa, she would recognize those orange flames anywhere. It was a small piece of the river of fire, the Phlegethon.

His bed lay hidden behind a wide curtain, built into a niche on the opposite wall. She walked across the room as naked as she entered it, feeling her husband's gaze rest heavy on her movements as she reached up to pull back the thick black curtain. She drew in a breath. When she had first awakened in her bed nearly a month ago, it had made her feel small. His was raised up on a short dais behind the curtain, a black sea of soft spun wool bed clothes, pillows and sheepskins arranged haphazardly. It could have comfortably slept eight. She remembered him talking about how restlessly he slept, and wondered if he had needed the space in case he thrashed about and needed the utter darkness of the curtain to stay asleep.

She also thought about how easily they could get tangled up in these sheets together. A shiver of delight traveled through her as she turned back to see him standing next to the hearth fire, his himation already in a heap at his feet and his hands deftly working to remove his belt.

"It's warm in here," she finally said.

"It was cold without you all these aeons," he returned. The belt fell to the floor. He lifted a sleeve over his head and shrugged out the open side of his tunic to stand naked before her, unmoving. The glow of the fire and the light from the amber walls and ceiling played against the hard contours of his frame, almost making him look kissed by the sun. With his unshaven face and golden skin, she thought he must look very much like the warrior who had loved her even before the Fates consigned him to rule the Underworld. "Does it not please you?"

She was mesmerized by him, her mouth gone dry. "No," she finally said. He smiled, noticing that she visibly lusted for him. "The fire pleases me greatly." She walked over to him and took his rough hands within hers, gently pulling him forward as she walked backward toward the bed.

"Would you like me to lay down?"

"Yes."

"Would you like me to draw the curtain?"

"No."

Aidoneus smiled at her and scooted backward on the bed until his head was propped up against the pillows, then watched the dark silhouette of his wife against the flames, moving toward him, her hands and knees pressing into the mattress as she crawled forward, then rose over him. He didn't touch her, no matter where or how boldly she touched him. Instead, Aidon let her seduce him, still aware of how new and fragile their forgiveness was. With his unmoving limbs splayed out on his bed like this and her shadow cast over him, he thought, he must look like some sort of sacrifice. The idea amused him, then disappeared completely as her hot mouth enveloped his flesh, his body rising and falling to meet her careful ministrations.

"Sweet wife," Aidon finally ground out when he could take no more. "It's been a few days too long… So if your intention tonight was to fuck me," he said hoarsely, "sooner would be better."

Persephone stopped when she heard the word she'd shyly used and looked up at him with a coy grin. She licked the hint of salt from her lips. He shivered at her absence and saw her rise over his body, her thighs splayed over his hips. Aidoneus tilted his head forward. The light of the fire burned vibrant and sanguine, shining through the space where they were about to join once more.

"Strange," his voice slurred around a ragged breath as he looked back up at her. "To think my plan was to seduce _you_ here one day."

"Well, dear husband," she said, lightly drawing him closer to her waiting heat, "you did say the Fates had very little use for your plans."

He laughed, then shuddered and rocked his hips forward as she slowly lowered herself onto him. The light between them disappeared, the fire eclipsed. He closed his eyes in pleasure.

"And maybe that's not a bad thing," she said, her voice deeply affected as she felt him stir inside her. Persephone watched a contemplative smile light up his face as he took in her words.

"I love you," he moaned.

She responded the best way she knew how, by starting her movements slowly and deliberately, drawing his pleasure out of him, taking her pleasure upon him. Aidoneus still kept his limbs spread away from her, his palms gripping the sheets. She quickened her pace, tearing a harsh groan from his throat. Her limbs started to shake; her motions grew fevered and she started to falter.

"Aidon, please…" she cried and whispered. "Please hold me!"

He sat up and caught her in his arms, steadying her, then carried their rhythm himself as she cried out and dug her fingers into his shoulders. The waves rolling through her crashed down on him. He tightened his embrace and violently rocked forward, his ecstatic shout muffled against her breast.

They collapsed, out of breath, and she lay on her back beside him, staring up at the black linen canopy draped over the bed. He held her hand once his senses returned and gazed at her before drawing her back into his arms, their legs tangling together. She placed a hand on his chest and he occupied his with undoing the braid and ribbon that held her chignon in place. Aidoneus wound her locks around his fingers as he gently pulled at them and discarded the ribbon, then massaged her scalp and spread the cool waves of her hair across his shoulder. He closed his eyes blissfully, his mind and body intent on reclaiming the sleep he'd denied himself the past three days.

"Aidon?"

"Yes, my love…"

She tensed for a moment. "This is important to me. You want me to be your queen and your equal, but you know what that means. Where you need to take me."

He opened his eyes again and took a long breath before answering. "Tartarus."

"I need to speak with them, Aidon. I need to know why they call me their queen."

He separated from her embrace and turned to her, watching fear wash over her face, no doubt remembering the forcefulness of his last refusal. He smiled at her, then nodded his head. "Alright. I will."

She relaxed forward and he tilted her chin up until she looked into his eyes.

"But…" he said firmly, "it means that we're getting up at dawn tomorrow, and you will do so with me every day until we go."

"Why?"

"Because I have to prepare you," Aidon answered. He kissed her on the forehead. "I'm not sending you down there defenseless."

Persephone moved closer and kissed him again, feeling Aidon's arms gently wrap around her and his fingers trail over her hips. They languorously tasted and touched each other. It was careful and comforting at first, the fire in their blood building slowly. She felt him quicken once more.

"At dawn," he said, rolling Persephone onto her back and leaning over her.

"At dawn," she whispered in agreement.

"No matter how late we stay up."

"I take it we're not going to sleep yet?" she said breathlessly.

"No," he said, laying astride of her. "Not yet. Not even close."

Then he was within her once more. Having denied himself when she rode atop his body, he touched and kissed Persephone everywhere he could reach without breaking their intimate contact. When they finally stilled, Aidoneus drew her against him and held her around the waist. He buried himself in the scent of her hair as they both drifted into a deep and peaceful sleep.

_Their softness, their heralding purpose, was now ended. Knowing they were needed elsewhere, they fell, resting against the cold earth and one another. Life rose up to greet them. High above, the six-pointed stars they left remembered their hallowed purpose. In a triumphant sign of union and completion as old as the cosmos itself, they drew inward upon themselves and started to grow._


	31. Chapter 30

Bronze against bronze, their swords clashed together. The echoes rang off the steep walls of the courtyard atrium. Gray morning mist and the golden poplar tree hung overhead. Aidoneus gently pushed her blade back with his. They panted, staring intently at each other, and readied their stances again. He gave her the signal to advance and held his sword aloft, coiling back and light on his feet as she swept hers out at him.

He brought his blade down in a hard arc as he spun aside, knocking the sword from her hand. It skittered across the cobblestones of the courtyard, coming to a stop near the wall. Persephone stumbled toward Aidon and felt him gracefully sweep around her, capturing her from behind with his arm. He held Persephone steady by the silver cuirass that bound her short chiton to her body. Impeccably controlled, the edge of his blade sang through the air, stopping a safe distance from her neck. They held there, motionless.

"How did I beat you?"

"I forgot my footing," she said, feeling his chest rise and fall behind her. His right arm relaxed his blade back to his side, but his left arm still bound her to him intimately. She felt his breath against the back of her ear, her hairs standing on end.

"And what was one of the first lessons I taught you a month ago?" he said, his hand moving up her neck and caressing her skin. His fingers ran slick over the light sheen of sweat until he felt her pulse fluttering under his touch.

"You're distracting me," she whispered with a shiver.

"What did I teach you?" he breathed back into her ear, gently nipping at her earlobe.

"That footing is everything," Persephone finally answered.

He broke away from her and her body rocked backward at his absence. She watched him walk over to where her sword lay. Aidoneus picked it up by the blade at the hilt and came back to her. "Again."

Persephone caught the handle as he tossed it to her and sighed. "We've spent two hours on this today."

"And you're getting better. Again!"

She wrinkled her nose at him.

"You're adorable when you give me that look," he said with a smirk.

She rolled her eyes at him. "Aidon, honestly, I'm tired. How long did you practice when you started learning?"

"I trained with Prometheus for seven hours a day, every day, for four years before I ever swung a sword with the intent to kill."

"What?!"

"Don't worry, my love— there would have to be another war among the gods before you'd ever have to learn as I did," he said. Their swordplay in the courtyard was for peacetime. It was a dance, a game— basic defensive movements and nothing more. He prayed she would never hear a warrior boast of his courage at dawn, then plead for his life before it was taken from him at noon, or see the sun setting on a battlefield blackened by foraging crows.

"Is what I'm doing enough to defend myself in Tartarus?"

"This is enough for if we get momentarily separated, or if the Keres don't recognize you."

"What if a shade got loose?"

"The shades in Tartarus aren't chained. Their minds are their prison. Their eternal punishments are their bonds."

"What about one of the Titans?"

"Then we would both be in danger. No matter how many thousands of years I've spent mastering this," he said, brandishing his blade in a blur of effortless arcs, "it would take all the immortals above and below to stop them."

"Then everything you have taught me, though I'm glad to have learned it, and to have you as my teacher," she said with a shy smile, "is completely futile."

"It's not futile, sweet one. And that isn't going to happen anyway. The world itself would have to break apart before the Titans' chains came loose. As I said when we started, I'm teaching you to make sure you're not defenseless down there. I held no expectations that you would master this within a month."

"Some day," she said with a smile.

"Perhaps," he grinned.

Persephone felt her movements were still clumsy and slow compared with the fluidity of her husband's. Aidon's first lesson for her had started with what little she knew. He'd taught her to reshape her long chiton into armor, and the silver cuirass she'd chosen now hung heavily on her shoulders by its leather straps. She bent over and exhaled, trying to roll her spine as she came up, feeling the tension in her arms and the back of her legs. After a full month of practicing with him, she now knew why her husband had such perfectly sculpted calves and thighs.

"Come; one last time for today, Persephone. Afterward I'll show you something."

"Show me what?" she said, rotating her shoulders to stretch out the kinks in her back. Persephone got into the sidelong stance he taught her.

His smirk grew deeper, his eyes echoing the feral look he got when they were in the midst of sparring… and other times. "It's a surprise."

She bit the corner of her lip and smiled at him, trying to read his face. "I wouldn't call _that_ a _surprise_ anymore, Aidon. A month ago, that was a surprise, but—"

"It's not what you think," he said in mock innocence. "But I certainly won't complain if it turned into that."

She sighed, happily defeated, and turned her foot back. "Last time?"

"I promise. Come, wife."

Persephone rocked from her heels to the balls of her feet, determined to keep her footing this time. Her legs corded against the straps of her sandals and she advanced. He knocked her sword away. She sidestepped and ducked backward to avoid his riposte.

"Good!" He called out, getting back into his stance.

She circled him this time, locking her eyes to his as she waited for his attack.

"Remember what I told you. Look to the shoulders and the chest to gauge movement; never the eyes. Eyes can lie; sinews do not," he said, pushing forward. She brought her sword up to meet his and pushed his blade away, knowing that his movements were slowed so she could learn, his true strength held in check so she wouldn't be injured.

"But your shoulders and chest, husband…" she said, stabbing at him, her blade knocked aside again by Aidoneus. "…tend to distract."

He laughed and countered another thrust, locking the hilt of his sword against hers as he parried and pushed her away. Persephone rolled back and came up on one knee, holding her sword aloft to block his downward swing with a loud scrape as the blades met. She wheeled around and swung out at him with her riposte. His eyes widened in surprise at her quick movement. As he retreated from her barrage of swift strokes, blocking one after another, she made the mistake of leaving her left side open to him.

His sword curved over her, its tip angling down toward her shoulder as he stopped his retreat. Neither moved. They stood close enough that the heat of her breath left a trail of mist on his armor, and she could feel him panting hard against the intricate coronet of braids Merope had piled on top of her head that morning.

"How did I beat you this time?"

She smiled up at him, glad that Aidoneus never just let her win and took this as seriously as she did. But he'd forgotten where her sword lay.

"You didn't," she said. "How did _I_ beat _you_?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Well, wife, that's an interesting thing to say considering that the next move from this sword would be through your neck."

"Indeed, husband," she breathed. "But my blade would have cut into your leg long before you had a chance to bring yours down on me."

Aidoneus looked at her quizzically, then lowered his sword and leaned away from her. Sure enough, the flat of her blade lay against the interior of his thigh. If they were mortal, her cut would have opened tendons and veins and collapsed him to the ground before he even had a chance to raise his sword above her. She'd used her stature to her advantage.

A smile slowly decorated Hades' face. She carefully withdrew her sword when she heard his clatter to the ground. He took a step toward her as her blade followed his onto the stone floor. When his hand reached up to cup the nape of her neck, their clothing started to shift, the armor softening around them. By the time his lips met hers, they were once again draped in their familiar spun wool robes. He led her all the way up against the wall next to the courtyard gate. When she felt the cold press of stone at her back and her husband's warm body in front of her, she wished there was no cloth barrier there at all.

"My fierce little warrior wife," he whispered against her lips.

She had to laugh. "Oh, now you're just having fun at my expense! You make it look so easy, you move so slowly to accommodate me and here I am crudely hacking away…"

"How else will you learn?"

"Well, how did you learn? Did someone go easy on you?"

In an instant, Aidoneus' mind was on remote Thera and his first lessons.

"_Get up!" his teacher said in his clear voice._

_He lay sprawled at the base of a cliff, the wind knocked out of him. He curled forward, groping around in the dust for his sword._

"_How much pity do you think your father will take on you? Or _my_ father for that matter?" Prometheus circled him, the sun beating down on them. It was always so bright now that Aidon was free— always blinding him. "Iapetos would have put his spear halfway into the rocks behind you and skewered you like a pig by now."_

"_He's not here…" a younger Aidoneus finally choked out._

"_No, he's not," Prometheus said, slamming a sandaled foot into his gut. "But I am."_

_Aidoneus crumpled forward then coughed again, rocking on the ground before staggering up onto his feet with a growl, sword in hand, his jaw clenched._

_The rebel Titan smiled at him. "Oh, _now_ you've decided you're angry. Good! Use it."_

_Wild eyed and yelling, Aidoneus rushed at him, bringing the edge of the blade down in fast, hard strokes, each one blocked handily by Prometheus' sword. Finally, he tangled his teacher's blade at the hilt and wrenched it clear of them, a cloud of dust drifting away on the salty ocean breeze where it landed. He pointed his blade at Prometheus' neck. The Titan smirked at him. Aidoneus breathed through gritted teeth and wiped the sweat and dirt off his brow through a mess of uneven black curls— hair that he'd sawed off to the quick with a knife six months before. "Enough already!"_

"_Not even close," Prometheus said, calmly._

"_You think I enjoyed being trapped in there?! That I'm not already angry enough?! My entire wretched life has been—"_

"_No, I don't think you're angry enough. Not nearly. If you were, you'd be able to take it and mold it into something useful. This," he said, deftly reaching forward and plucking Aidon's blade right out of his hand before twirling it in front of him, "is your salvation. It is the instrument by which I'm going to turn you into a warrior— a leader of men, and one day the king of the gods."_

"_What?!" Aidon spat incredulously._

"_Well, what did you think this was all about? You think we freed you and the others for sport? Why would Metis and the rest of us risk _everything_ for the Children of Cronus? If by some Fates-granted miracle we aren't all thrown into the depths of Tartarus," he said, "if this rebellion actually succeeds, if the Tyrant is toppled— and that is a long list of _ifs_, Aidoneus— who do you think they'll look to? You are the heir! The firstborn…"_

"Aidon?" Persephone said, shaking him out of his memory. He looked around before focusing on her inquisitive face and smiling thinly, trying to remember her question.

"No, sweet one, he never went easy on me," he finally answered. "But with good reason; those were different times."

She smoothed away a loose lock of hair from his face. "You were so lost in thought just now. So far away from here…"

"Aeons away. But I'm here with you now, my love." He smiled at Persephone and trapped her within his arms again, kissing her neck. His head bent lower and he felt her wince in pain. Aidon stepped away from her. "I'm not hurting you, am I?"

She rolled her neck. "No, I'm just sore."

He smiled. "Well, then this might be the perfect time to unveil the surprise I promised you."

* * *

**Author's Note:** _I realize this is a short chapter, but as The Big W approaches for me (2.5 months left!), I'd like to keep up with consistent updates. The next chapter will be longer, I promise. I am thoroughly touched by the reaction this story has received, and I hope to keep entertaining you every week. A special thanks to those of you who have consistently reviewed Receiver of Many chapter by chapter. You know who you are, and your dedication is amazing. Thank you again, and see you Wednesday. _


	32. Chapter 31

Persephone looked at him skeptically as Aidon took her by the hand. They walked through a long hallway level with the palace courtyard, then descended a set of stairs lined with lapis lazuli and aquamarine. Persephone swore she could hear the muffled drumming of the waterfall on the other side of the thick wall, along with a persistent echoing drip. The staircase twisted around and grew darker, all light now behind them. Aidoneus held her arm tightly as they made their way down the last flight, but she still bumped into him until the stairway ended and they took a few steps forward into utter darkness. This room was warm, the air heavy.

"Ready?"

"I can't see a thing."

"Not yet," Aidon said. She could hear the smile in his voice and feel his lips trailing on her cheek as he searched for her mouth in the dark. Persephone turned to meet him, closing her eyes as he kissed her. He raised his hand and she could see light filter in from behind her closed eyelids. She caught the scent of pitch igniting.

When he let her go, she opened her eyes, her lips parted in wonder as she took in the room. A rectangular pool dominated the center of the room, its surface reflecting the light of precious stones that hung high above, inviting Persephone to plunge in its tranquil, dark waters. The domed ceiling was festooned with sapphires and diamonds, each one set next to the other in a tight mosaic. The display of wealth was stunning— it humbled even their ornate royal bedroom. Persephone smiled, remembering that Aidoneus held dominion over all the riches of the earth— the stones' value in the world above had little meaning here.

The diamonds reflected the light of the torches back into the steamy room, diffuse with watery light. Blue-gray limestone tiles covered the floor, the fossilized outlines of ancient sea creatures trapped in the stone. Near them sat a raised divan covered in a thick pad of folded wool.

"Why had you never shown this to me before?" she asked.

"Honestly, I'd forgotten it was here until yesterday afternoon."

"For—"she looked at him, shaking her head. "How can you forget about a place like this?!"

"Sweet one, I created _hundreds_ of rooms over the course of all the millennia I've lived here," he shrugged. "I only keep to a handful of them. I think I made this one sometime… ahh… five thousand years ago, perhaps? I forgot I had."

"I wish you hadn't," she said with a smile and a laugh. "This place would have been a wonderful retreat after practice."

"To be fair," he said with a sly grin, "a tour of the palace seldom crosses my mind after practice. Or yours, for that matter."

He folded his arms and watched her blush. The first few times they'd entered the courtyard, their movements had been like a slow, sensual dance. He had held her hand and weapon from behind and angled her slow thrusts, his other palm splayed across her belly to guide her into each new position. On the second day, Aidoneus couldn't get them back to their bedroom fast enough. He'd forgone the stairs and hallways, instead opting to travel through the ether with her, pinning her to one of the walls when they arrived in their bedroom. Later he had taken great care with her, running a sponge soaked in sweet scented tallow soap and warm water along her limbs, cleansing her body of the sweat from their exertions. It had become a daily ritual for them. She would lie on their bed languidly after she dried off and watch him go about his morning routine, roughly scrubbing at himself with tallow and pumice and warm water from the basin before taking a short razor and olive oil to his face, keeping his beard meticulously trimmed.

A quick kiss on the cheek from Aidon snapped Persephone's drifting attention back to the room.

"Well, do you like it?" he said.

"Like it?" she said. "I love it! How deep is the pool?"

"About eight pechys, I think," he said. She was unwinding her ribbon girdle before he got the third word out.

"Perfect!"

No sooner had she said it than she had cast her unbound chiton to the floor and ran naked to the water's edge, much to Aidon's amusement. Persephone jumped and tucked her legs up against her chest, landing in the center with a mighty splash. He stepped clear of the rebounding water just in time. The pool stilled, the last dark ripple bouncing off the stone edges.

He peered into the water. "Persephone?"

She breached the surface with an inhale of air and a happy shriek, and looked up at him through the water falling from her hair. "It's so warm!"

He relaxed and stood at the pool's edge, admiring her. "The water's from the falls; the heat's from the Phlegethon."

"Well?" she said, wiping a hand across her face and blinking a few times. "What are you waiting for?"

Aidoneus picked up her discarded chiton and neatly folded it, placing it on the divan. He took his himation off his shoulder and did the same. He turned back to her and was met by a wave of water from the pool that hit him crisply in the face. He cursed and sputtered in momentary annoyance, blinking away the rivulets and staring down at the soaked front of his tunic in open-mouthed shock. Persephone doubled over laughing, the joyous sound filling the room, warming him. He wiped the water from his face with a mischievous grin and a low growl. "You'll pay for that."

She treaded water and drew in a halted breath behind her smile, wondering for a moment if he was serious. Aidon wasted no time casting the rest of his wet clothing to the floor and walking to the end of the pool farthest from her, his wife's eyes following him the entire way. He dove in gracefully, almost silently, to the bottom of the pool, until his shadow was lost in the dark water.

A hand wrapped around her ankle and she yelped. She heard her voice broken and muffled when he pulled her under the water. Aidon dragged her down a little ways before letting her go. By the time she breached the surface, gasping, he was already in front of her. His hair was slicked back by the water, and his laughing smile showed a row of white teeth.

She sputtered again. "Was that how you planned to make me pay?"

He laughed again, "Oh, certainly not," he said, treading closer toward her. "When I do, you'll know."

She bit her lip and swam away from him as he advanced. He followed her closely until she was backed up against the opposite end of the pool.

He grinned at her. "Aren't you the experienced little swimmer…"

"I'd better be," Persephone answered, watching him plant his hands on the pool's edge on either side of her, ensnaring her within his embrace. Before he could move in to kiss her, she inhaled and disappeared underwater faster than he could blink, diving down to the bottom. He looked around for her, then heard a small splash and giggling behind him. "After all," she said as he turned to face her, "I did grow up surrounded by water nymphs."

She drifted toward him and rested her hands on his shoulders, her nose rubbing against his before she kissed him. She brought his face closer to hers, tasting him, her hands tangling in the coarse waves of his wet hair. Aidon closed his eyes and tried to picture her swimming in the sunlight, the grass her carpet, the sky her ceiling, the trees her columns, the pools and rivers filled with her laughter. He smiled as he kissed her; he could taste the living world on her lips and wanted more. "Tell me about your life when you were Kore."

She tensed and turned away. He immediately regretted saying it, trying to mask his fear that this conversation might end with him taking her back to Demeter. She looked down, filled with memory, then up at him again, almost perplexed. "What is there to tell?"

Her reaction pained him, but gave Aidon some measure of relief that she wasn't upset at him. "Everything," he breathed. "Anything. I want to know all of you."

"I have no idea what to tell you, Aidon. Anything I say couldn't be as exciting as the life you've lived."

He threw his head back in a short guffaw. "Exciting? Look around you, sweet one. Granted, I enjoyed every moment I spent working upon it, but does someone who has lived an _exciting_ life spend millennia building hundreds of rooms he never uses?"

"But— you fought a war, you've been the king of this realm for aeons… and…"

"And you're my queen." He leaned forward, giving her a peck on her nose. "And you always were."

"You have so many stories from the war. The people you met, the things you saw… You knew Prometheus. And Metis. I only know a handful of stories, and most of them _yours_ for Fate's sake."

"Well, sweet one, Metis isn't a story I ever want to tell, and it's one you've likely heard anyway. You were friends with her daughter, no?"

"Athena."

"Yes, Athena." He remembered the Titaness, gray eyed Metis, graceful and frighteningly intelligent— now gone forever. When he'd caught a glimpse of Athena out of the corner of his eye at Olympus, he'd almost startled at how the young goddess resembled her mother. It was like seeing a ghost.

"What about Prometheus— besides what I've likely heard?"

"As I said, he was my teacher. Prometheus made me into a man, honestly. All I wanted once I was freed was blind and bloody vengeance, careless of all else. If I had pursued it without his teaching or Hecate's counsel…"

"Was he still your teacher after the war?"

"No; after several years he said I surpassed him and we fought side by side. Prometheus was my friend, my brother— and one of the very few who would visit me in the Underworld. He even named his daughter Aidos after me. He never understood why I accepted this lot."

"Why did you accept this lot?"

"Because I abide by _ananke_, the will of the Fates. Not everything I've ever _wanted_ has come to fruition, but as I recall you saying," he said with a smile, "that's not a bad thing. _Ananke _has been the guiding principle of my life— as it _should_ be with all the deathless ones," he said, narrowing his eyes, slightly. The edge in his voice was not lost on her.

"Did Prometheus not believe that?"

"No, he did. He just thought I deserved more and tried to advocate on my behalf, though I never asked it of him."

"Is that why Zeus took issue with him?"

"It certainly didn't help matters. Prometheus did manage to find _every way possible_ to undermine Olympus after the war, especially in defense of the mortals he created."

"So when he was to be punished for giving the humans fire—"

"I supported him." He shook his head. "It was contemptible. They needed fire. Too many were pointlessly ending up here without it. When Zeus condemned him, I stood against your father. He wanted to send Prometheus to Tartarus, but I told Zeus that if he did, I would set him free."

"He chained him, anyway."

He sighed. "I know."

"My mother sided with Zeus."

He grunted in acknowledgement.

"I know that Athena, though she was still new— not young, Athena was never young— _she_ defended Prometheus."

"In retrospect, I should have kept my mouth shut. Zeus never comes down here. I could have had him here as my honored guest and no one would have been the wiser. It's not as though he would've lacked company; the Underworld is full of old gods."

"See? I told you your life was more exciting than mine ever was. How could I say anything that could even fairly compare?"

"The Titanomachy was not as thrilling or heroic as I may have led you to believe. There's nothing exciting about killing, Persephone."

"But it was _something_. Your strategies, your plans, a history I had never known."

"My plans…" he snorted. "The Fates were never kind to my plans. I had ten _years_ in the sun. You had _aeons_…"

"Why did you never come to the living world in all that time? Didn't you want to see me?"

It was Persephone's turn to wonder whether or not her question reached too far. Aidon looked away from her, his face turned solemn before his eyes met hers again with a sad smile. "My reasons were twofold, my love. First, it would have done no good for either me or this realm if I'd been constantly visiting a world I could no longer be a part of. I needed to acquaint myself with every facet of Chthonia and truly become its lord. If I was paying visits to the surface, it would have… delayed that. And second, and most important, it was part of my own bargain with Demeter in order to have you as my wife."

She knit her brow, thinking about what it would have been like if her mother had approved of their match. Persephone would have known about Aidoneus her whole life— maybe she would have even been able to visit him and see the Land of the Dead she would one day rule with him. She saddened slightly. Perhaps it was meant to be this way. Maybe it was better this way.

"What do you miss the most about the world above?"

"After ruling here and seeing all the beauty this kingdom has to offer, not much…" For a moment, his eyes wandered upward while he pondered her question. "The stars. The forests. I loved walking through the forests on a moonlit night. How even though it was still, if you listened hard enough you could hear everything moving. Living. And sometimes you could hear a thing or two dying so that other things might live. I loved the solitude of gathering wood, building a fire to keep the darkness away. The world was so uncertain then, that was the only thing I felt I had any control over."

"I rarely ventured into the forests, and never at night. My mother was worried about satyrs. I mostly kept to the wide open fields. I liked the smell of the ocean air—"

"So did I."

"—the warmth of sunlight on my shoulders, small lakes as bright as the sapphires you used to decorate this room…"

"Tell me more," he whispered.

"There was a field of barley near Eleusis that had the most beautiful little fiery copper butterflies, but they were the kind that only drank from thistles, so I would put one or two at the borders of the field and give them a home…" She trailed off and looked at him quizzically. "Aidon, this can't possibly be anything you'd _ever_ care about."

"And why not?" He stroked her cheek.

"What in the world could I possibly say about barley fields and butterflies that would hold your interest?"

"Anything. I didn't get much of a chance to see them."

"How? You were in Thessaly and Lacedaemon and on Crete. Surely if we had them in Eleusis…"

"The open fields I knew were… razed. No place held much life once the war of the gods touched it. And everywhere the war went, so did I." He swam away and circled around her as she backed against the edge of the pool once more. He closed the distance between them. "But you, sweet one, you've only known life…" he said with a kiss, "sunlight," he kissed her again, "innocence…" he said with another.

She laughed. "That last one's not _entirely_ true. Granted, I never saw anything until the day you came to me, but I at least knew about how babies are made. I spent my adolescence around nymphs, after all."

For a fleeting moment, she saw him cringe. "Nymphs like Merope?"

"Only briefly. Each one was only there for a short time." She looked down. "I had my mother, but I was… I think I was very lonely most of the time."

Aidoneus smiled at her empathetically and kneaded her shoulders with his fingers. She relaxed back against him and sighed while he deftly worked the knots out of her neck and arms, even taking each of her hands within his and pressing into palms with his strong thumbs. He drifted behind her and spread one hand across her belly to tip her forward, then gently pressed his knuckles into either side of her spine, kneading from her neck to her tailbone. She hummed in appreciation and fell limp against his encircling arm. Her bottom rhythmically ground against him with each dig of his fingers while he worked to release the tension in her back. It wasn't long before she felt him twitching hotly to life, the muscles of his abdomen tensing behind her. Aidon exhaled harshly and moved to her side, leaning on the edge of the pool, then reached for her braids and carefully pulled the wet strands free. After a few minutes of fumbling with her tresses, he grunted in frustration. Persephone bit her lips together but failed to keep back a smile.

"I swear she makes this more complicated every day just to vex me," he muttered while he smoothed out the last bound lock. Her warmth and scent and the daily rhythm they had fallen into started consuming him.

"And yet you insist on taking it down every day after practice and before we…"

He returned her half smile. "It gives me pleasure— not to mention another part of you to hold on to."

She worried her bottom lip with her teeth as he closed in on her again, his intent clear in the expression on his face and the tension knotting the muscles of his arms. "If it were up to you, my hair would always be unbound, wouldn't it, my lord?"

"My lady, if it were up to me, your hair wouldn't be the only thing going unbound at all times." He gave her a wild grin that left Persephone blushing. He sank under the warm water again, still holding her sides.

Persephone held on to the pool's edge as he kissed a quick line down her stomach underwater. She cried out in surprise, then again in pleasure when his tongue rasped against her core. He stayed submerged and wrapped his arms around her just below her hips, tasting her. Her eyes widened and her palms flattened against the limestone as he slowly exhaled, bubbles rippling against her, the sensation of it taking her breath away. He came up in front of her, breathing hard once he broke the surface.

She questioned him with wordless gasps, her eyes lidded, her head swimming. He only grinned back at her, rivulets of water falling down his face. "Now… _there's_ your payment for when you splashed me."

"I… I'll be sure to do that more often."

He quickly lifted her out of the water by her hips and placed her on the edge of the pool. Aidoneus separated her knees with his shoulders, his arms pinioning her legs, his hands gripping her thighs and pulling them apart, his tongue warm.

"Aidon…" she cried, finding it difficult to stay upright and needing to touch him. "Please…"

He smiled and ignored her, deciding that she would pardon him if he did so. She grasped his head and struggled to stay upright. Her fingers threaded into his hair, not knowing whether she should push him away or pull him closer. Finally, Aidoneus removed his lips from Persephone's and dipped back into the water. He hoisted himself out of the pool to sit beside her. She stared at him with a mixture of passion and frustration. "Forgive me, sweet one, I didn't want to stop in the middle of what I was doing," he nuzzled against her neck. "I still don't want to…"

"What do you suggest?"

He stood up and offered her his hand. She took it, her whole body trembling, and Aidon walked her around the pool, meandering toward the divan on the opposite side. Persephone stopped him midway, quickly spinning around and crouching low, grasping him tightly in her hand. Too surprised to react, Aidon felt her pull him into her waiting mouth. The soft heat enveloping him drew the air out of his lungs. His knees faltered for a moment, her hands and tongue drawing him deliciously off balance. Aidon reached for her hair and gently pulled back, bringing her away so he could stare directly into her eyes. "Perhaps something to both our liking," he rasped.

With great difficulty, he tamped the instinctual desire to bear her down against the floor and push his knees and her back into the unyielding limestone again and again until both achieved a shattering release and no small number of aches and bruises. She could tell how badly he wanted her, his expression set dangerously on edge with need while she practically goaded him into taking her. But he did not, and clearly had something else in mind. Curious, Persephone released him and stood up with a smirk. He took one look at her and pulled her with him.

When they reached their destination, he roughly brushed their clothes to the floor and sat her down, kissing her as he moved one leg behind her on the divan. Aidon leaned in and nipped at her neck and breasts while he scooted away from her, and lifted one of her legs. She looked at him inquisitively, but followed his lead. He trailed his lips across her stomach and guided her down next to him until they lay side by side, faced toward and opposite one another. She laid her head against the side of his leg, face to face with what she was so eager to enjoy beside to the pool, tracing her finger up its length. He sighed at her caress and focused on his own prize.

He darted his tongue, lapping up her essence, his head cradled against her thigh. The closeness and sensations made Persephone gasp. It was new, exotic, sublimely natural. And even better, this angle made possible her full descent onto him. He rolled his eyes back and groaned, breaking contact with her momentarily to regain his concentration.

Aidon hadn't wanted to let her fully taste him when she'd first suggested it. He felt it would demean her in some way, but she insisted, telling him that she desired it, that he'd brought her to completion without feeling demeaned. He'd agreed with that, at least. Persephone had quietly coaxed it from him one night, three weeks before, when the light of the full moon shone through the Styx and turned the Underworld silver. They were on the terrace outside their bedroom, unseen by all from that height. She had pressed herself against his chest with a kiss, leaning him back onto the corner railing. The rush of the falls had drummed in his ears when she took hold of him. When she knelt before him, he'd gripped the stone ledge so hard he thought it would crumble like chalk in his hands. Moonlight pooled in the movements of her hair and lips and fingers, and at the end Aidoneus was certain that his shout had awoken every soul in Asphodel. It was him, his essence distilled— all earth and roots and salt, which she drank eagerly and triumphantly that night.

Persephone sought out that taste once more, curled up against him on the couch. Their bodies raced each other, ecstasy building, giving and taking in a symmetry of raw need. Driving him toward his peak, she felt him breathing hard through his nose, fire licking into her beyond the heat of his mouth. Her moans vibrated along his length, sharpening his pleasure and echoing hers. They hovered at the precipice.

Lips locked against her flesh, Aidon's arms strained and tensed, cradling her waist and hips, anchoring himself against her to keep from thrashing about and tumbling both of them to the hard floor. His eyes squeezed shut and a punctuated groan burst from his throat, rippling through her core, pushing Persephone to her own ecstatic peak.

She felt blissfully drowsy, replete. Persephone opened her eyes to his lustful admiration as she hungrily licked her fingers and lips. They settled and relaxed, breathing shallowly, heads pillowed against each other's inner thighs. Aidoneus reached out and took his wife's hand, utterly spent and smiling at her with dark, heavily lidded eyes. "Persephone…"

She looked up and turned shock white in horror. Persephone scrambled back to cover herself and almost kicked Aidoneus in the head before she screamed. Alarmed, he turned to where she was staring wide eyed and saw the rim of a golden hat and the winged back of a sandal dart in a blur of motion around the corner of the stairwell.

"Apologies, my lord! I had no idea—" the voice rang from the top of the stairs.

"_Hermes!_"


	33. Chapter 32

Cursing, Hades reached down and grabbed his himation, throwing it around the shoulders of his cowering wife. He held her close and spoke low into her ear. "My love, I'm so sorry, I don't even know what to say. Go now; I'll meet you in our room," he said softly before he snarled in anger. "I need to deal with this."

Persephone turned her head up to him, her cheeks still hot, her face red. He looked at her gently and contritely once more, then kissed her on top of her head.

"Sweet one—"

"I'm alright," she muttered just above a whisper. Drawing from the Phlegethon, she created a gateway of fire and stepped through, traveling back to their room. Persephone looked back at him as it shut behind her.

His jaw clenched. Aidoneus grabbed his tunic, still wet from when Persephone had playfully splashed him, and wrapped it around his waist. It dried instantly when his hands brushed over the fabric, the water melting back into the steam of the room. Hades sat down and narrowed his eyes, seething anew when Hermes landed at the bottom of the stairs. The Messenger fell to one knee just outside the doorway.

"Enter," he rumbled.

"My lord, I humbly apologize," he said, taking his golden petasos off his head and holding it in front of him. "You're usually alone when I—"

"Well, in case you hadn't heard, Hermes Psychopompos, I'm married now!" He stood up, towering over Hermes.

"Lord Hades, if you forgive my saying so, the entire cosmos knows that you're married."

"What's that supposed to mean?" he growled.

"N-nothing," he said, tousling his short brown hair. "My lord, surely you've noticed the number of souls crossing the river is—"

"Yes, I know! Why hasn't Zeus stopped Demeter's foolishness?" Aidoneus grumbled and swiped his belt off the floor. He unwound the tunic from his waist, shaking the black fabric out to put it back on properly. Hermes startled, blinking, then averted his eyes.

"Uncle, please…"

"Do not call me that, boy! I was Lord of the Underworld _ten_ _thousand_ _years_ before you were deposited in Maia's womb! And spare me your shamefacedness. I know what you do in your private life…"

"A warning would have been—"

"Oh, like the warning you gave my queen when you disgraced her just now?!" Hades exclaimed, wide-eyed. He snorted sarcastically and reached for his cast-off fibulae, then pinned up one shoulder of his tunic. "I can only hope that my lack of warning will form a lasting imprint on your memory. Maybe next time you'll remember that before you think to enter a room where I am alone with my wife_._"

"Aidoneus, I'm sorry, truly. I had no idea that I'd find both of you… here… in the middle of… It doesn't take me but a minute to go through the entire palace, and I usually just fly about until I find you. It's what I did the last time I was here. And the time before that…"

Aidon sighed as he pinned up the other shoulder and tied his belt low on his waist, pulling at the fabric until it draped to his satisfaction. His legs were still bare from just below the knee and he remembered that Persephone had taken his himation with her. His thoughts turned to how he would apologize to his wife. "Just don't barge in on us again, Hermes," he said calmly. "Things are different now."

He nodded, chastened, biting back a smile at how true Hades' words were. The Messenger had come to know Aidoneus better than most of the other Olympians dared, or could for that matter. When the Lord of the Underworld announced his impending union with Demeter's daughter, Hermes had assumed that the stern and prudish god would merely do the deed once to make his marriage official and that would be the end of it. Hermes had never seen a lick of emotion from Aidoneus in all the aeons he'd known him, and would likewise never have guessed that he would feel so passionately for his bride. He certainly didn't expect to see… he squinted his eyes and shook the image from his head.

"So why hasn't Zeus reined in Demeter?"

"The… um, the earth isn't his domain," Hermes said weakly. "It doesn't belong to any of the gods. So we—"

"I don't need a lecture on how the cosmos is arranged, thank you. What is being done to fix this?"

"He's sent almost all the others to see her, to beg her to stop. She even turned Iris away."

"Where is she?"

"Eleusis, my lord. They've built a temple to her."

Hades almost laughed. "Demeter freezes and starves the mortals and they build her a temple. I make sure the dead don't return to haunt and threaten the living and they fear to speak my name." He ran his hand back through his wet hair, thinking about what horrors would befall the earth if he shirked his duties. "Why hasn't Zeus himself gone to her?"

"He's… I…" He swallowed and hushed his voice. "Honestly Aidoneus, between you and me, I think that his pride won't let him. He can't honor her wishes, obviously, and so he'd be forced to beg her to—"

"Damn his pride!" Aidoneus shouted, pacing the floor. "Go tell Zeus that I say he should go to her himself! Let him _remind_ Demeter that their daughter isn't some vapid virginal flower nymph. She is the Queen of the Underworld. _My_ queen! And if Deme's so intent on forever clinging to one of Zeus' offspring, he can go ahead and beget another one on her while he's at it!"

Hermes chuckled, his hand over his mouth, trying hard to keep quiet.

Aidoneus cocked his head to the side. "Mortals are_ dying_ _in droves_ because of her. What do you find so amusing?"

"Nothing… It's just hard to imagine. I mean, with _Demeter_."

Aidon thinned his lips. He'd known them. It wasn't hard for him to imagine. "Besides delivering bad news, what other reason brings you here? Did you finally accomplish the task I gave you?"

"Oh, yes… that's right…" Hermes said, reaching into his bag. "With all that just happened, and my apologies again—"

"You're forgiven."

"—I'd almost forgotten why I came down here." He handed it to Aidon. "Brontes and Steropes asked me to congratulate you on your marriage, by the way."

* * *

After Hermes left, Aidoneus walked up the twisting stairs and passageways to his antechamber. He paused for a moment outside the ebony doors, took a deep breath, and traced a finger over the gold inlay of a poplar leaf. "Persephone?"

"These are _your _rooms, Aidoneus," she said through the door. "You don't have to ask to come in."

"Our rooms, my love. And under the circumstances—"

"Are you alone?"

"Yes, sweet one. Hermes is likely already back on Olympus by now."

She groaned.

"Persephone?"

"Come in," she mumbled.

Aidon slowly opened the door and shut it silently behind him, one hand held behind his back. She sat with her knees curled up to her chest on the divan, still wrapped in his himation, her toes sticking out from under one edge and her wet hair matted to her back underneath it. He shook his head. "I cannot apologize to you enough—"

"Aidon, it's alright. I'm just… embarrassed."

"I promise you that it will never happen again," he said. "I think I managed to put the fear of Tartarus into Hermes, and besides a rare visit from Hephaestus, he's the only one who comes down here."

She dropped her face into the folds of his himation again. "Hermes knowing is enough, isn't it?"

"Knowing what?"

"What… what we were _doing _together."

"Are you ashamed of what we enjoy together?" He remembered the fear and shame on her face after the first time he'd carried her to bed. Aidon grew quiet and cast his eyes to the floor. "Are you ashamed of me?"

"No! No, absolutely not! How could I be?" She rested her chin on her knees. "I just… word is going to spread all over Olympus and—"

He chortled and shook his head, "We could have been making love hanging upside down from the rafters, wife, and I doubt a single one of those licentious louts would care one way or another if they heard of it."

"Perhaps not, but word will still get back to my mother," she said.

"If it makes you feel any better, and I doubt this will, Demeter has ensconced herself at Eleusis and she's not admitting anyone. I don't think she'll hear about it."

She shook her head. "Why is she still doing this?"

"I don't know, sweet one. But there isn't anything you or I can do about the misfortunes in the world above. Zeus will speak with her directly, find a way to sort her out, and put an end this nonsense. I tasked the Messenger with telling him as much."

"And in the meantime, more will die."

"Everything dies, Persephone. They will come here, their suffering will be ended, and they will be reborn to the world above once this famine ends."

She found cold comfort in this. Persephone looked out to the terrace in the direction of the river Styx and the throngs that were now a daily presence on its far shore.

"Before we were so rudely interrupted, I had planned to tell you something." He sat down across from her and placed a silver helm next to him.

She looked at the black horsehair plume crest, its tail long and falling away next to it. Shifting her feet to the floor, she leaned closer. The last time she saw something like this was when he had pulled her into his chariot. His was cast in gold. Persephone inhaled sharply in recognition and looked back up at him.

He gave her a soft smile. "You're ready."

"Ready…" her eyes widened. "You mean—"

"I wish he had just stayed in the main hall and waited for me, but it's not in Hermes' nature to wait for anything. Two weeks ago, I had him visit the Cyclopes; they still owe me a few favors. Through the Messenger, I asked them to make a replica of my helm for you, and for Hermes to deliver it."

"But—" Her mouth fell open. "Hades Aidoneus, you _cannot _do this! The three gifts they originally gave were only for—"

"Those who rule the cosmos?" Hades said, stopping her. "I told you that you were my equal, no?"

She reached forward, the himation still wrapped over her shoulders, and ran her fingers through the soft brush of the plume.

"And you will need this for Tartarus."

She looked up at him and sat back. "When are we going?"

"Tomorrow, if you wish it."

"Won't I need to learn how to use this first?"

"No; it's easy," he said, picking it up and holding it out to her. "Go ahead. Put it on."

Persephone touched the cold sides and lifted its weight into her hands. She stared at the faceplate, its eye slits almond shaped. The nose bridge dipped down into a diamond point and the cheeks' flat planes angled forward to let the head move easily from side to side. "I'm surprised you never used your helm to visit me."

"Helm or not, Demeter would have sensed me if I were physically there. The original six of us are bound that way," he said, then smiled. "Also, it would have made it very difficult for me to kiss you."

"So how does this work?"

"Just think about being invisible to me— or being invisible to all. It's as simple as that. Anything more complex would be useless in the heat of battle."

Persephone turned the helm over in her hands and raised it above her head. She lowered it, her scalp and face tingling and electric as they came in contact with its magic. She looked down, expecting to see nothing at all, but saw her hands and the himation wrapped around her. "Aidon, I don't think it works for me. I can still see myself."

"That sounds about right." He was looking past where she stood but inclining his ear in her direction. "You'll see yourself no matter what."

"So you can't see me?"

"Right now? No. But I can hear you." _More so, I can feel you, my love_, he thought.

"So… do I look like a robe hovering in the air?"

Aidon laughed. "No, sweet one. Anything on your person is also invisible. What— did you think I fought the war naked?"

He heard her titter at that. "Now there's a thought."

Aidoneus smiled in the direction of her voice, then opened his eyes wide as his himation suddenly appeared and flew away in front of him before settling in a heap on the floor. He listened carefully and heard her breathing lightly against the silver faceplate as she came closer. The touch of a warm thigh settled on one side of him, and a soft hand gripped his shoulder. She sank gently into his lap, her stomach pressed against his tunic, her warmth surrounding him. His breath caught as she lifted the helm off her head, her breasts appearing and filling his vision. Aidoneus looked up at her.

"You're right," she said, setting it aside. "It would be hard to kiss you wearing that."

Aidoneus tilted up and met Persephone's lips, her fingers raking through his damp hair. As his arms came up around her waist, he silently wondered what in the name of the Fates he'd ever done to deserve her.

...

* * *

**Author's Notes: **_So I am pleased with how this recent plot arc has gone and also giddy that I managed to throw a few of you off the trail while I was at it! Fret not, there is a LOT more story to go (and a lot more things that need to happen, mythwise, before the inevitable). And I apologize again for the shortness of this chapter. I'm not doing this on purpose, I promise. There just wasn't a good break in my narrative to coherently edit the last three chapters into two._

_To answer some questions about the last few chapters I received in the reviews... Madame Thome asked if I'd ever done fencing, and the answer is yes. I briefly trained in traditional foil fencing. I was trying to find a happy medium between my own experience with swordplay and the traditional Greek hoplite stances and techniques. The xiphos sword for the Greeks was a secondary weapon in phalanx combat, the first of which was the dori, or long spear. Swords were only used in close quarters and were designed to hack at an opponent, specifically at limbs or at vulnerable points on the neck or face. The swords were short and "leaf" shaped, heavy, took a strong arm to wield and weren't particularly sharp. They were used more like a machete than a katana or épée. So it took a little bit of finagling to take a non-precision weapon and find a way to use it like the chief precision weapon, the dori. I didn't think that a dori would have particularly served Hades during the Titanomachy, since he and his siblings were on the run, and he primarily relied on stealth from what we can surmise from stories about the Titanomachy that managed to survive the destruction of antiquity. He likely wouldn't have been in a phalanx line as a hoplite soldier, either, at least not in my telling. Spears and shields were passed, in Athens and in Sparta, from father to son and since Hades, Poseidon and Zeus were fighting against Cronus, they likely wouldn't have had such things. Iapetos has the curious moniker of "The Piercer" when he is mentioned in the Theogony, so I thought it was appropriate to give him a spear. And what this all boils down to is that I think about this shit way too much. _:P

_As Hakudoushi-9 pointed out, Hermes 'interruption' of Hades and Persephone tends to be a pervasive plot point in this and other renditions of the myth. The reason behind this is because that very interruption was written straight into lines 342-344 of the Homeric Hymn to Demeter. "_And he found the Lord inside his palace / seated on a funeral couch, along with his duly acquired bedmate / the one who was much under duress". _When you see 'seated on a couch' appear in this phrase, it is the same as saying that Hermes found them 'in bed' and all embarrassing sexual euphemism that implies. The Greek word used in line 343 is κλίνη, or kline, which means alternately bed or couch. The implication is solidified a line later by Hermes not finding Hades with his "mate" or his "wife" or even "the daughter of Demeter" but his "duly acquired bedmate". In this way, the ancient audience would have had no question in their mind that poor Hermes walked in on Hades and Persephone mid-copulation when h__e visited the Underworld to retrieve Demeter's daughter. Her desire to not let the Olympians, specifically her mother, know that she was enjoying herself with Hades in the Underworld comes later in lines 412-413 where Persephone straight up lies to Demeter that she was "forced" to eat the pomegranate seeds (her story being different from the narrative presented in lines 371-374 when Hades "slips" her the seeds furtively and she eats them willingly after being sweet talked by him that he will make her the "queen of everything that lives and moves about" within the earth if she agrees to stay with him as his wife), then rhythmically soothes her distraught mama with an iambic litany of all the nymphs she was with before the abduction to calm her down. If anyone has any interest in reading about this particular theory behind the Homeric Hymn, I cannot recommend Ann Suter's "The Narcissus and the Pomegranate: An Archaeology of the Homeric Hymn to Demeter" highly enough._

_Anyway, thank you again for your reads, reviews, and questions, and I look forward to telling you this story every Wednesday until it's told._


	34. Chapter 33

"As the basket comes, greet it, you women, and say 'Demeter, greatly hail. Lady of much bounty, of many measures of corn.'" Triptolemus held the large bread basket aloft before the assembly.

"Demeter, greatly hail!" The women cried out and fell to their knees. "Lady of much bounty! Of many measures of corn!"

They pulled their indigo veils over their hair to mourn the lost Maiden, then rose in lines to receive their daily bread. The room was warm, almost stifling from the hundreds of milling bodies and the crackling iron braziers lining the walls. The air hung thick with rare frankincense and common pennyroyal. The dark-robed Mother sat where her altar once stood in the Telesterion, a great oak throne on a nine-stepped dais constructed by the first Eleusinians returning from Athens. Demeter looked serenely out over the assembled women and back to Triptolemus, who descended the steps in front of her. The women formed a line and bowed in front of the Queen of the Earth. Each lay a sheaf of wheat, millet, or barley at her feet, murmuring quietly 'Bless you, holy mother' with their eyes cast down. Triptolemus gave each of the congregation a piece of flatbread from the basket before they returned to their rows.

Demeter wore indigo, the borders of her chiton and himation framed in a gold meandros of wheat. A dark linen veil covered her hair, draped from her golden diadem, and her long robes pooled at her feet, covering the first few steps of the dais. The baby Demophon slept peacefully, cradled in Demeter's arms. Metaneira, now the Lady of the Harvest's high priestess, stood on her left holding a great golden cup filled with _kykeon_. Celeus stood on her right, the hierophant _archon basileus_ of Eleusis— king no more, though he still wore his circlet crown. He swung a heavy bronze censer between the worshippers and Demeter, the perfumed smoke rising like a screen.

Before the women broke the bread, Demeter stood before them, young and old, rich and poor, slave and freeborn, from Attica and Peloponnesus, Thrace and Illyria. "You maidens and mothers," she called out to them, "You have traveled far and stand all of you together. Equal. Loved and cherished. My children of the earth."

"The children of the earth give thanks for your mercy," they responded. Demeter sat back down and handed Demophon to Celeus, who exited through the halls to put his son back in his crib. Not long after his mother had interrupted the rites that would grant him immortality, the babe grew sickly again and Demeter had worried that he would be lost, her oath to Celeus and Metaneira broken. But rumors swirled throughout Hellas that the Lady of the Harvest and her bountiful crops had returned. The people came back to Eleusis and as they did, the infant's health began to improve. He even started to smile, his eyes twinkling pale blue gray, his cheeks and limbs soft and fat, flushed with vitality. The infant's every happy gurgle made her heart ache.

Her memories of little Kore were stirred every time she heard Demophon cooing and saw him staring up at her with his wide, trusting eyes, the shade of his irises so close to that of her daughter's. Though she wanted to, Demeter could not make the babe immortal as she had done for Triptolemus. The last of her ambrosia was gone. The means to create more were there, supplied by the prayers and offerings of the Eleusinians. But Demeter knew that the final process to create ambrosia, distilling it through the water of the Styx, was ultimately cut off from her. Perhaps permanently. She didn't dare go to the shores of the Underworld and risk facing her daughter's captor or any of his servants.

"By this sacrament, I am your Mother. You hold in your hands the fruitful bounty of the earth. Go out into the world, you maidens and mothers. And as you give this bread to your elders, to your menfolk, to your children, pray only for the return of my Kore from the halls of the Unseen One."

"Of Demeter, of corn-rich Eleusis, and of the violet-garlanded Kore we sing!" the women said in response, and broke the bread in half as a promise to share it with the masses that had made the pilgrimage to Eleusis.

A heavily-veiled girl rang a _koudounia_ at the back of the room, its copper chimes signaling the women to leave. The indigo throngs slowly moved toward the doors. Metaneira drew her himation over her head and greeted each of the women with a sip from the blessed cup of _kykeon_ as they exited, then followed after them, leaving Demeter alone. The room felt colder, and Demeter's slightest movement echoed through the lonely hall. She looked around for Triptolemus, then remembered that he had gone into the greenhouse to meet with his two new students, Diocles and Eumolpus.

No matter how many people she surrounded herself with, no matter how many praises and prayers, heartfelt thanks and supplications she received, she was still without her Kore. Her poor trapped Kore. She must be scared, alone, surrounded by the frightful House of Nyx if she were allowed to meet anyone at all. Demeter knew Aidoneus— his selfishness, his inexorability, his violence. He had most likely locked Kore away, greedily isolating her from anyone's eyes. She wondered how desperately her daughter must have searched for a way out, how many times Kore must have injured herself trying to escape him.

Her throat started to tighten, remembering the asphodel growing in Kore's sacred shrine the morning before Hades stole her. Aidoneus had come to her daughter, had seen her sleeping there peaceful and innocent. He'd touched her that night and she'd let him— Demeter knew it. The defiance in Kore's gait, the shame and guilt of discovery on her face that morning had said it all. It was the same flushed look she'd had on her face when she was young, and imperious Hecate had questioned her, arms crossed, about the evening she stolen away to Crete to be kissed and caressed by Zeus, two years before their _hieros gamos_ on Olympus. He had used all manner of tender words and heated touch to persuade Demeter, but ultimately respected her wishes to remain a virgin that night. Demeter had no such assurances about Hades.

He had sweetly tempted Kore, lured and seduced her to convince Demeter that her daughter had given consent. With the asphodel he'd planted to mark the place where they'd lain, Aidoneus had made it clear to Demeter what he wanted, what he would have, what he would take. He couldn't have left Kore alone and unspoiled this whole time. She thought about the great tear in the earth, the breached and ruined grove in Nysa where his chariot had sprung forth to abduct her Kore. Hot tears stung her eyes. When she pictured Hades dragging her to his bed and pinning her struggling, crying daughter under his body, they blurred her vision. When Demeter imagined her taken unwillingly, screaming in pain as the dark god moved upon her without pity or remorse to turn Kore into Persephone, her tears finally spilled over.

He would have broken her spirit by now, just as surely as he would have ruined her innocence. Demeter cupped her hand to her mouth to muffle her crying and drew the veil down to hide her face. No one should hear her. Her throat made hitching, choking noises around wrenching shudders that refused to go away no matter how much she willed herself to do so. Kore no more. The cold wind howled outside, the foundations of the Telesterion shuddering, its wood rafters moaning. The braziers in the hallway guttered for a moment, dimming the room. Aidoneus had made good on the prophetic name that Zeus and the Fates had given to her daughter. She Who Destroys the Light.

The door to the greenhouse behind her throne banged open and she sat upright, pinching her arm, biting her lips together, anything to force herself back to serene silence.

"…And we'll terrace them on the hillside when Kore is returned. The ground will be warm enough," a nasal voice said.

"But remember, Diocles, you cannot fill them with the dry dust you find in the field," Triptolemus answered. "The soil needs to be thoroughly alive. Living soil, living harvests. All the crossing in the world won't help you unless it is. Do you believe I grew wheat like that from any random scoop of dirt?"

"No, my lord."

"But what about the water?" Eumolpus asked.

"From the springs. Grow near them or carry water from there," Triptolemus drifted away in thought for a moment. "We need to devise a way to convey it… build cisterns to store it… Maybe we can build one before we have to focus on the planting when Kore is returned…"

"My lord, I know. But those springs come from… under the ground. Aren't they the domain of—"

"It matters not," Triptolemus interrupted. His voice grew low. "And do _not_ mention his name or any epithet he answers to while you are in this sanctuary or in my presence. Thanks to _his_ greed, my sisters are gone. To say nothing of our Lady's precious Kore."

"Apologies, my lord," Eumolpus muttered.

One student had been the son of a mighty king from a great city state, the other the spawn of a nymph. Both were now leveled from their lofty positions, students of newly immortal Triptolemus, once the humble prince of simple farmers. Diocles and Eumolpus walked around to the front of the throne and spied Demeter. Each immediately fell to one knee. "Queen of the Earth," they said in unison.

Demeter stood slowly, still veiled, the stream of tears hidden. She curtsied to them slowly and walked down the dais in silence, the sheaves scattered at her feet clinging to the base of her robes, strewn behind her as she walked. Demeter entered the greenhouse door they had just exited. The smell of freshly tilled earth greeted her, but barely calmed her tortured mind.

She swished her robes away from the door and closed it behind her, leaning back against it. A loud sob burst out of her throat, and she walked over to a bed of soil. The wheat had been harvested, milled, turned to bread, and now the loam lay thrice plowed, waiting for new seeds to be planted. She sat down and buried her face in her hands, wishing more than anything to escape the echoing loneliness of her own gasping breaths, her wretched tears. How was she supposed to lead these poor people if she couldn't even gain control of her own emotions?

She heard the creak of the door opening and stilled, facing away.

"My lady?"

Demeter lifted the veil over her head and wiped her eyes and nose with the back of her hand, pasting a smile on her face for Triptolemus. "My prince."

The title had no meaning for him anymore, now that he was one of the deathless ones, but she still used it with him. Triptolemus closed the door behind him. "My lady, is something wrong?"

Demeter looked down, her voice wavering. "I'm fine."

"I'm sorry that _he_ even came to mention in the temple, my lady. If Eumolpus said anything that upset you—"

"No, my prince, it wasn't him. I already was…"

Triptolemus saw her shudder again and turn her head away. He carefully took one step forward, then another, finally sitting down beside Demeter on the fresh bed. Cautiously, he reached a hand out toward her shoulder. Before he touched her he drew it back. "Do you wish to be alone?"

She crumpled toward him, her shoulder leaning against his chest, her body shuddering as she cried quietly. She said nothing. He brought his hands up once more, forgoing his usual caution, embracing her. Triptolemus could always see through her disguise. But it had been easier to talk to her when she was Doso. He could at least pretend that she was a gentle crone, a humble wise woman. The barriers of decorum he would have normally kept with her were so much easier to cast aside before. Now here she was, a beautiful goddess, one of the most venerated beings in all creation, weeping softly in his arms. He stayed still for long moments before rocking her slowly in his embrace. She sniffled once, calming down.

He hummed, then started softly singing a lullaby he had heard long ago, or in a fever dream. He couldn't remember. As he reached the next verse, she stiffened and turned to looked up at him in astonishment.

"Where did you hear that?" she whispered.

"I—" he thought for a moment. "I've always known it."

She stared into his eyes, not breathing. She had been taught that same lullaby long ago. Aeons ago. By a man who held her just like this— a kind farmer. She'd sung it to Kore throughout her childhood.

"Should I not sing it?"

"No, it's…" Demeter trailed off. It couldn't be. These poor mayfly mortals. Their bodies were created from the dust of the earth and the blood of the Golden Men by Prometheus— forms that couldn't hold their immortal souls for long. They passed between worlds, from the verdant to the chthonic, taken apart and put back together, lost to oblivion each time they crossed the Lethe. But the obliteration of who they were was never absolute. There were distant memories, ancestral dreams…

Demeter would never know for sure. Names and details were lost forever on the Other Side. It could just have been coincidence— in her despair she was wishing for something familiar, wishing to be comforted. But to hear a song she hadn't heard in aeons, a song taught to her by Iasion, her lover, that she in turn had sung for Kore... Her eyes watered again.

"Forgive me. I won't cause you any further distress. I'll go."

"No, don't!" She leaned again on his chest and cried, her face red, tears streaming down her hot cheeks, finally letting go and sobbing aloud. Grieving. "Triptolemus…"

"Shh… I'm here. I'm here," he whispered, stroking her lovely hair. She was a woman. In this moment, she was just a woman. Demeter. He petted her hair, holding her close. She smelled of wheat and barley, the sun, fresh cut grass. He was struck with an image of holding her and comforting her like this before, but he'd never been this close to her, nor would he ever dare to be so intimate with the goddess of his people. But right now, she was a woman— a soft, vulnerable, disconsolate woman who needed him.

And he was a man.

Triptolemus leaned down and tilted her chin up, stroking her face. He tilted his head and kissed her. She brought her hand up to his neck and returned it. Her lips were so soft and warm, and a fire burst to life within him. But he dared not take it further. She shut her eyes, her breath catching around a sob.

Her little mewling sound made his heart freeze in his chest. He pulled away in fear. "My lady, I'm sorry!"

Triptolemus stood up and backed away from her. Demeter touched her lips, still tingling from his kiss, the first she'd had in aeons. "For what? What's wrong?"

"Forgive me. You're… you're the Lady of the Harvest and I'm only… Gods above, what was I thinking?!"

"Please stop calling me 'My Lady'; I asked you before—"

"That was when you were Doso. I have no right to that familiarity. You'll anger at me later for taking these liberties with you."

"Liberties, what—" she shook her head, the corner of her mouth twisting up. "Triptolemus, I'm fully aware of my choices. I enjoyed your kiss; truly. There's no harm, here."

"There is when you're grieved and I'm _comforting_ you, my lady. I'm taking advantage of you."

"Please, just call me Deme."

"Deme was my baby sister's name."

"Then Demeter! Call me Demeter!"

He took another step away from her. "I have no right…"

"No, no please… come back," she reached out to him.

Triptolemus just shook his head.

"Why not?" she said, knitting her brow.

"Because I have no right to love you!" He swallowed, the words finally out.

She raised her eyebrows at that. "You…?"

"Isn't it obvious? Everything I've ever done…" He thinned his lips. "Even when you were Doso I knew who you were and loved you. I thought Death had come for me, but you were there. You stopped him. And I knew instantly who you really were. I've tried my best to love you from a distance, but…"

Demeter's mouth twitched up at this. She had quietly admired her prince since she arrived, not daring to think that he harbored anything for her other than respect for the wise woman Doso or reverence for the Lady of the Harvest. She secretly looked forward to accidental brushes of skin, or a glance from his bright blue eyes. This past month, Demeter had tried in vain to forget the warmth that flooded through her when she'd touched him. She remembered the lines of his body when she had him undress for the rites that gave him immortality. She would never have guessed that he had feelings for her, or that this handsome young man might even want to…

She blushed and looked away.

"I adore you, my la— Demeter. I would never presume, but I cannot help what I feel. And what I feel for you seems to have always been— even before you arrived," he said glancing around them at the greenhouse. "What do you think all this was for? I've had this passion lit in me my whole life. And it feels like a continuation of sorts. A progression. I know I was delirious, but it all seemed so clear when I had the fever. I saw you— us— in my dreams."

Demeter opened her eyes wide and drew closer to him. "What did you see?"

He drew back, wary of her intensity. "N-nothing… they never made any sense."

"They're dreams! They're not supposed to make sense." She stood, tilting her head to look up at him. "But I can understand dreams. I'm a goddess, aren't I?" Demeter said, smiling gently to reassure Triptolemus.

He sighed and looked away. "Which is why I shouldn't have kissed you."

"Just tell me," she said softly, running her hand along his cheek. Her heart was beating fast. The first time she'd felt it truly beat in aeons. She had spent so long being a scorned lover, a mother, a protector, a goddess. She'd forgotten how intoxicating it was to be a woman. Not since…

"It was a shield with strange symbols I couldn't read— nothing I've ever seen before. And I saw sparks and a hammer and the shield beaten into a plow. I opened a pomegranate with you. You were so very beautiful, just as you are now. I gave you a seed and kissed you. You told me who you really were, and you were afraid to do so— afraid I would hate you. But I didn't and I…"

"Tell me," she whispered.

He looked down, his face reddening. "I made love to you. Many times. One time, we were in the sunlight in an open field and you held my hand and smiled at me. But the sky darkened and everything disappeared. There was a man taking an obol from my hand and asking me to sing for him. Then an endless field of white flowers under gray mist. Someone unseen, wrapped in shadows, asked me many questions about you, about my life, about your Kore, and called me by a name that isn't mine."

Demeter's eyes watered and she breathed in sharply, almost staggering back from him.

Triptolemus looked at her and blinked, fearing he'd said something terrible. "Is something wrong?"

"It's…" a tear rolled down her face again, "It's too complicated to explain. I can't—" She ran her fingers under his jaw and kissed him, and he returned it hesitantly.

Demeter pulled away, her lips thinning. It would happen again. This was infatuation— at best, an echo of who he once was; at worst, only a feeling of obligation to her. She had saved his life and granted him immortality— and Triptolemus now felt that he owed her whatever she wanted. She admonished herself. Here _he_ was, worrying about taking advantage of _her_! She was a Child of Cronus, deathless for millennia, and he had only been immortal for a month. The blink of an eye. And since Triptolemus was one of the deathless ones, he would tire of her eventually, just as Zeus had. Mortals could love for twenty or thirty years if they were lucky. Gods, deathless and free of consequence, for even less time. To expect one being to love another for thousands of years was impossible. She had come to terms with that long ago.

"My prince, you could have your pick of any maiden here."

"I don't want them," he smiled. "And please call me Triptolemus."

"But so many noble families have come to Eleusis. Fathers and brothers have gone to your family without demanding bride prices. They've even offered _dowries_ that would make Midas blush."

"Riches mean nothing here, and nothing to me."

"They will again, when my daughter is returned."

"I see none but you."

"I'm _old_, Triptolemus. I was _ancient_ as Doso, but even now—"

"Not to me."

"If we were mortal, I would appear ten years your senior. It's been a long time since I looked like a flower in bloom."

He wiped a tear off her face with his thumb. "We're not mortals, Demeter. I know I haven't witnessed the aeons you have, but I'm here to stay. I don't want some girl that just wandered into Eleusis for food."

She drew closer to him, trembling. His thumb traveled across the curve of her bottom lip, still swollen from his kiss.

"I want the most beautiful woman I've ever seen," he threaded his fingers into her hair and pulled her close, slanting his mouth against hers. Demeter melted into him. It had been too long.

Triptolemus held her close and deepened their kiss. To her, he tasted of mild sweetness, like honeyed bread. She was filled with an irrepressible urge to touch his skin again, just as she had when she'd massaged the ambrosia and oil into his limbs. Her fingers pushed his himation off his shoulder and started pulling at the fibulae of his tunic. Triptolemus wrapped his hands around her wrists.

"Demeter…"

She looked up at him.

"Is this what you want?"

"I wouldn't have started this if it wasn't. If it's too s—"

Her next word was swallowed up in a kiss. They moved nervously, shaking in delight, in the sacred space he had built to honor her. She felt innocent and unsure with him, and it only took a short time for Demeter to understand that Triptolemus was not untried. He had probably been taken to the home of a _hetaera_ by his father when he first became a man, as was tradition among the nobility. By his innate knowledge of her, she guessed that he had done this far more recently than she had. Demeter nearly laughed out loud at that idea. Civilizations had risen and fallen since she was last touched.

Wrapped in the warmth of the room, they slowly removed one piece of draped wool after another, her low-slung girdle, his leather sandals. Their heat outpaced the fires warming the room. Triptolemus spread his himation out on the fresh loam with her in the center, the soft tilled earth cradling their intertwining bodies.

Demeter could forget about Zeus, about Hades, about her grief, about the cold, hungry mortals milling around outside the Telesterion. She remembered when Iasion curled up behind her and kissed her neck, and when Zeus playfully swatted her rump each time she rose from their bed. Neither of them worshipped her in quite the same way as Triptolemus. He traced her ample curves reverently, watching her every reaction as his hands moved over her skin, followed by his lips.

Triptolemus drew it out, unsure if this intimacy would be allowed tomorrow. He wanted to drink her in— prolong this. She might not allow him this close to her ever again. The time finally came when he could hold back no longer. Triptolemus covered her body with his, slipping into her in ardent strokes while her legs and arms tangled around him, holding him closer, urging him onward. The jolt that coursed through her as he came with her arched her back and shuddered her entire body. Their locked lips muffled their ecstasy.

Demeter held his trembling, collapsed body to hers, twining her fingers through his damp hair. His breath landed hot on her neck. Triptolemus whispered to her that he loved her and only her, that he would never leave her side. She only nodded, believing him, tears streaking from the corners of her eyes and lost in the tangle of her copper curls.

The thrice plowed field. She'd lost one lover to the jealousy of another on a thrice plowed field.

She wouldn't lose him again.

...

* * *

**Author's Notes:** _To answer Nightdancer87, I don't hold a degree in the Classics, and I consider myself an amateur Classicist at best. As far as ancient Greek goes, I have gotten as far as learning the alphabet and sounding out words, but that's about it. Which means that to get more than a few words down, I admittedly do what the average American does and rely on the internet. My primary focus in college was 19th century Romantic literature and creative writing (had mixed results in the job market :P ). To Athena of the Greeks - Oh, thank goodness! I'm glad you enjoyed the notes. I didn't include very detailed notes before since I thought I'd be boring everyone to tears with my semi-academic prattling. I promise I won't do too much prattling, but I figured that this was a good chapter to include some since it relied on a heavy amount of research. It's what makes Demeter's chapters so hard to write. I don't want to eff up known details, but also don't want to strangle creativity. I just recently got my hands on the Orphic Hymns and the Homeric Hymns as translated by Apostolos Athanassakis. His work is a far more faithful translation than the Orphic Hymns commonly available as translated by Thomas Taylor. _

_Taylor lived in the 18th century, when the dominant movement was to "improve" the work that had come in centuries and millennia past, as they were viewed as flawed. __This led to a lot of meaning being lost and words being misconstrued as poets sought to retain the hexameter of the poems when written in English. Alexander Pope even tried to do this with Shakespeare, which stripped it of the meaning and left it as dry as toast. This is why when we see Shakespeare performed today it's done in its Elizabethan glory, not in its perfect iambic pentameter as prescribed by Pope. Pope's translation of the Iliad and the Odyssey remained popular throughout the 19th century suspiciously because it was "sanitized" of overt sex and violence and considered fit for public consumption. The works of Euripides, Aeschylus, and others were subject to this same abuse. So it's easy to read the Orphic hymns, with their perfect rhymes in English and perfect cadence and raise a skeptical eyebrow. Take this for example... the first four lines of the 18. Hymn to Plouton, first by Thomas Taylor, 1792: "__PLUTO, magnanimous, whose realms profound / __Are fix'd beneath the firm and solid ground, __In the Tartarian plains remote from fight, __And wrapt forever in the depths of night;" Contrast this with the first four lines as translated by Athanassakis word-for-word from Greek in 2013: "You dwell below the earth / O strong-spirited one / a meadow in Tartaros / thick-shaded and dark." Quite the difference in impact._

_The reason why this is important, is that I found the exact line in the HHtD that I referenced last week, which, according to Athanassakis reads: "And he (Hermes) found the Lord (Hades) in his palace, sitting in bed with his spouse." That's about as no-BS as it gets and the words are translated from straight, unpoetic Greek.  
_

_In the opening lines of this chapter, I borrowed from hymns and prayers to Demeter by Callimachus (c. 3rd Century, BC) and Bacchylides (c. 5th Century, BC) and include the actual incantations recited at the festival of Thesmophoria. My goal here was to create the "first" Thesmophoria, one of the holiest of festivals in Eleusis connected to the Mysteries, and only attended by women. Exclusive worship of Demeter, Persephone, Triptolemus and Aidoneus existed for over 1,800 years and most heroes in Greek myth had to go through the initiation before they could gain entrance to the Underworld, Herakles included. The cult was so significant that the emperors of Rome, 1,500 years after the cult's founding would come to Eleusis to participate in the Greater and Lesser Mysteries. But despite the prominence of the people who counted themselves among the pilgrims to Eleusis: Aristotle, Socrates, Plato, and Marcus Aurelius, hardly any concrete details survive. This is because it was punishable upon pain of death to reveal the intricacies of the mysteries or the things revealed in the Telesterion, Demeter's great temple. The worshippers took that literally and outside of a few inscriptions here and there, we have nothing that survived the destruction of antiquity. Initiation into the mysteries was only hinted at in latter centuries, mostly by early Christian authors looking to detract from what was, at the time, one of the greatest ideological competitors with Christianity in the Roman Empire. Since the Mysteries themselves are completely lost, we can only speculate._

_As for Iasion and Triptolemus, I liked the idea of linking them through reincarnation to Demeter. While Iasion most certainly is, Triptolemus in myth is not listed among Demeter's lovers. Though this is peculiar, considering that Demeter gave Triptolemus many special gifts including her own chariot, and her dispensation to teach agriculture to mankind, and turned the king of the Scythians into a lynx when he tried to harm Triptolemus. As far as their connection goes, I'm far from the first person to draw a correllation between the two. In much of the Greek world, most prominently in Sparta, the constellation of Gemini was said to be Castor and Pollux. This survived into the Roman era and their veneration of Spartan militarism. But to Athens, and more importantly to Eleusis, the constellation of Gemini was not Castor and Pollux. It was Iasion and Triptolemus._


	35. Chapter 34

_Typhoeus was gone. Aidoneus rested on the southern face of Mount Aitne and watched the sunset bathe the shores of Sikelia and the sea beyond in brilliant gold. In this light, the island didn't show the deep scars of their last battle. Beside him sat the sword he'd pushed into the earth. The salt and sea breezes whip past him and he closed his eyes, breathing in the clean air._

_The war was finally over. All that was left was the final meeting with Lachesis tomorrow. She was the apportioner of lots, and what each of them drew would divide their father's dominion between them. Poseidon had already told Zeus and Aidoneus that no matter how it went tomorrow, he wanted the seas. They both agreed to his wishes. Poseidon's allies were already there. The Oceanids, Tethys, even ancient Thalassa and her children had already sworn their fealty to him. Poseidon was drawing up plans for how he would organize the long-neglected waters and build his kingdom below the waves, and had confided in Aidon that he already knew whom among the nymphs he wished to take as his wife._

"_Liberator," he heard a familiar voice behind him._

_Aidoneus stood up, then bowed to one knee. "Lady Nyx. I wasn't expecting you above ground."_

"_It's been a long time since I was able to properly oversee the coming of night in the world above," the goddess said. She was suspended in the air, as always, her husband's protection and dark essence swirling about her. "Too long."_

"_The war is over. You're free now, my lady," he said, standing and looking up at her._

"_I heard from Hecate that the cosmos will be divided tomorrow. You were wise to suggest it to Zeus. Absolute power is dangerous. Gods have gone mad from it."_

"_Gods like my father, you mean…"_

"_In ways you mercifully never witnessed, Liberator. Not directly at least."_

"_I was aware the entire time," he said with a shiver. "We all were."_

_Now he would never need concern himself with his father again. Cronus was forever locked in Tartarus. Tomorrow, Aidoneus would be granted his birthright. The kingship of the gods, the mastery of the heavens. He would build a new home for the Children of Cronus. Olympus was a good fortress but seemed too lofty, too high above the mortals. Perhaps he would choose an island such as this for the home of the gods— somewhere between the earth, the sea and the sky. The sharp cliff sides of Thera stirred his imagination._

"_When I am King, Lady Nyx, the Underworld will be yours to rule once more. I won't allow anyone to take it from you. Lachesis will tell us tomorrow exactly how the lots will be divided, but the sky, the earth and the sea seem likely. That's what Poseidon thinks, at least."_

"_Do not make assumptions about the nature of the Fates, my lord. My family learned that lesson through hardship."_

"_I will keep my word to you, regardless. Our victory would have been impossible without you and your children."_

"_Ruling Chthonia," she said, using her people's name for the Underworld, "was only one of Erebus' and my tasks. Now that my consort has become the darkness itself, we will leave that realm to younger gods. Whoever draws the lot for it will be its Lord."_

_He smiled thinly. "I received word from Eleusis. The nymph Cyane left the side of her mistress to let me know that my betrothed was born yesterday."_

"_So we heard. Congratulations, my lord."_

"_I will not dishonor my oath to Demeter and Zeus. Zeus can do what he will, and he's perfectly suited to draw the lot for the earth." He narrowed his eyes and thought about poor, abandoned Deme. "His… lust for life is great, but his ways are not mine. I'll take no other before my queen."_

_Nyx smiled, though her next words were solemn. "Do not assume you know more than the Fates, Aidoneus. The more we attempt to control our destiny, the less it bends to our liking." He acknowledged her call to humility with a polite nod. Nyx straightened, her smile spreading across her face. "But there are things destined, and there are things earned. You set my house free, Liberator. For that, I will give you what is yours by right: the Key."_

"_The what?"_

"_No matter who draws which lot, I only trust one of the Olympians with the task of forever binding the Titans and demons of the old order to Tartarus. That one is you. The sigil of my house will be remade as yours— the Key of Hades."_

_Her words made the corner of his mouth twist up. Aidoneus had long been under the impression that Nyx knew more about the will of the Fates than she ever let on. The Weavers were unmoved by the prayers or desires of any god or mortal. But they still lived in Nyx's realm; she must know that the first lot, and with it rulership over all, would go to him. Why else would she give him something of such importance? He knelt again. "You honor me, my lady."_

_Nyx leaned down weightlessly as if she were swimming through the air. The Goddess of Night placed her palms on his temples, her fingers wrapping around either side of his head. The darkness that was Erebus swirled about her and blocked out the last rays of the sun. He felt a burning cold, a shivering warmth seep into him, and shuddered. Nyx spoke. "And you honor us, Hades Aidoneus…" she said. Beyond her fingers, her reach extended into him like molten fire and twisting vertigo. Aidon's eyes grew wide. He spasmed and gasped before she leaned down to whisper into his ear. "…fated Consort of the Queen."_

_He jerked forward and the ground rose up to meet him. All went white. His vision went black._

_When Aidoneus awoke the sun was rising. He lay prone, his cheek pressed against the cold ground, and the wind whipped across the mountainside, making him shiver. He opened his eyes. His blade stood where he had left it, its tip buried in the earth beside him. On his left hand sat three rings. The Key. His honor. His aegis. Aidoneus smiled. He would be King of the Gods. This sign from Nyx proved it._

_Voices began singularly and quietly, but grew in number. 'Pater… Theos… Sotir… Pater… Anax…' they said. He startled at what they called him. God. Savior. Father. King. The mortals spoke through the Key, praying, calling to him. They were quieter than he imagined they would be— soft whispers, one nearly indistinguishable from the other. He concentrated, trying to pick out individual voices above the din. They asked after the families they left behind, asked about when they would go back, asked after things that confused him. Did they fight in the war and were asking for a way home? Some were in pain, asking for forgiveness and cursing their fates, begging for a way out of where they were. Were they trapped? They sounded anguished and angry. Aidoneus shook the individual voices from his conscious mind, but they persisted in the background, growing fainter as he raised his head from where he lay._

_Aidon would consult with Hecate later and sort out what all this meant. He had an eternity to figure out what the mortals wanted— forever to interpret their strange prayers. It was his birthright, and they were his responsibility now. The more immediate task at hand was meeting the others on Crete and deciding how everything else was to be divided. He stood slowly and dusted himself off. _

"_Hades…" his father's voice growled at him._

Aidoneus sat up in bed abruptly, sweat beading on his forehead, his breathing heavy. Persephone laid next him, her eyes blinking open at his disturbance. He crashed back down onto his pillow, shaking, his skin prickling.

"Aidon?"

Her hand came to rest over his drumming heart and she laid her head in the crook of his outstretched arm. Aidoneus looked down at Persephone, disoriented, before pulling her tightly into his arms. He held her close and shut his eyes, his hand trembling and his fingers digging into her shoulder blade. She shivered, both from the caged strength he'd momentarily let slip from his control, and from the distress rolling through him that tightened his embrace.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he said around a gulp of air, then relaxed his grip on her. "Nothing."

"Are you alright?"

"Yes, my love." They lay there for a long moment. She ran her hand over his chest, his heartbeat slowing, his breath lengthening as she did.

"Husband, you don't have to worry about me," she said quietly. "I'll be safe and protected when we're down there."

Aidon wiped the sweat from his brow and leaned on his side, watching a flicker of light from a split in the curtain dance across her curves. He smiled and languidly traced a finger over the path it made on her skin. "I know you will, sweet one."

She sighed and he felt her body rise to meet him when he doubled back with the palm of his hand, his caress intentional and insistent this time. Aidoneus leaned down to kiss Persephone before he moved over her, desperate to lose himself in her comfort. He'd lived here for millennia. Right now, he needed to feel like he was home.

Persephone awoke late, blinking as cool light filtered in through the open bedroom door, mingling with the warmth of the fire. During their training, she'd become accustomed to waking at dawn and was sad to have missed the first light of the Styx cascading in from their terrace. Merope must have seen the bedroom door closed this morning and decided not to disturb them. Persephone heard the rush of the falls outside, and looked around for Aidon, who was crouched in the corner of their room.

She heard him roughly scrubbing at his skin, the pumice turning it as raw as the little half moons her fingernails had dug into his back last night. He must have been up for at least an hour. Aidoneus stood and dropped the stone on the ebony table. He quickly splashed himself with warm water from the basin in front of him before drying off. Aidon exhaled and turned to her with a short smile, then grabbed a small ceramic jar of olive oil and his razor.

"So fastidious," she giggled, lying on her side, her head propped up against a pillow.

"Well, I didn't get much of a chance to do so the first half of my life," he said. Upon being freed from Cronus, his beard hung down past his waist and his hair to the back of his knees, both matted and snarled. He'd looked more like a creature than a man. Disoriented and blind the day he was disgorged, he'd groped around for the first sharp blade he could lay his hands on and dispatched every bit of it. Hecate had found him not long after. He was shivering under the cover of a small outcropping of rocks a day's walk from his father's home, naked, bloody, and too weak to stand on his own. She'd fed him his first real taste of ambrosia, wrapped him in a heavy wool cloak, and led him away from Delphi.

"Doesn't it hurt?"

"What, the razor?"

He saw her reflection in the mirror as she nodded back at him. The corner of his mouth lifted slightly, realizing that as Demeter's sheltered daughter, seeing a man was rare, speaking to one nearly impossible. Her experience with their day-to-day lives was non-existent.

"Not unless I slip, and I haven't in a long time. On the battlefield, I used the edge of a knife and did it without the luxury of a mirror."

"Why? Wouldn't it have been easier to just grow it out?"

"I would've looked too much like my father if I had."

She caught his eye in the mirror looking back at her. The wide scar carved across his back was enough to stop her from teasing him further.

* * *

"Hypnos." With a slight push of his hand, the door cracked open just a little further, swinging loudly on its bronze hinges. Two figures lay sound asleep on the wide cot. "Hypnos!"

"Mmmhuh?"

"Wake up! If we take much longer he'll move on. And this time _you_ will get to explain to them why he slipped through our fingers," the winged shadow in the doorway whispered angrily.

Hypnos shifted under the thick layer of bedclothes and fleeces, his form shimmering silver and translucent as it always did in the world above. Next to him laid broad-shouldered Argyros, son of the magistrate of Chios— a hilly island on the far eastern side of the Aegean. The man's thick arm was wrapped over one of Hypnos' folded wings. Thanatos bit his cheek. His conquests in the world above would be so much easier if his shadowy self even remotely resembled his brother's. Fates, he'd be buried in willing women. If he didn't appear as a bony wraith, he could have a lady warm him all night the same way Hypnos slept entangled with this young man. Thanatos thought about that for a moment and grimaced at the idea of having to deal with her the morning after. No, he decided, it was better this way.

"Just give me a moment," Hypnos whispered back and swung his legs over the bed.

"A moment might be all we have. Knowing him." Thanatos heard his brother's bedmate stir and gasp when he saw Death in the pale light of the oil lamp he carried.

"Peace, boy." Thanatos said, "I'm not here for _you_." As he moved the lamp closer to his face, he concentrated, shifting his form to angelic youth. The beautiful idiot might scream, otherwise, and ruin everything. "Where is he?"

"With the Canaanite woman, I'd imagine. That's what he was going on about over dinner, at least. Something about the moon being right…" Argyros swallowed, then chewed on his lip, glancing from Sleep to Death and back again. "Gods! You two _are_ twins."

Death watched Argyros' mouth twist up into a lustful half smile. It was a wonder this guileless youth got Hypnos _this_ far. Thanatos looked him over thoroughly. "Tempting, but no. We're here on business."

Hypnos wrapped his himation around his shoulders. Death walked past his brother and grabbed the chains from the corner of the room, each link tightly wound in strips of linen to muffle their sound. That had been done at Aidoneus' suggestion. Quieting the chains, after all, was the way he had crept up on the Tyrant. Thanatos slung their cold weight over his shoulder.

"Well _one of us_ is."

Hypnos shook his head at him. "You know, this would be a whole lot easier if you could set aside this aeons-old nonsense and just _talk_ to her."

"Why? She has no desire to speak with me."

"Hecate could have helped us _find_ him! Or even denied him a path through the ether. Instead we've gone from Ephyra to Crete, Illyria, Libya—"

"Yes, yes. And if you don't hurry, he'll take us all the way to the damned Euphrates!" Death said impatiently. He turned to Argyros. "Take us to the home of the _kedeshah_."

The magistrate's son led them through the streets. The horns of the crescent moon lay on the horizon, shining pale gold and reflected in the snow. Cold wind from the sea whipped past them as they walked. In the distance, they heard ice floes squeezing a trireme into splinters, its sailless mast groaning and crashing down on the frozen surface of the harbor as the remains of the mighty warship sank into the depths. It had become a daily occurrence on Chios. Thanatos extinguished the lamp in a snowdrift so they could move in perfect darkness. While his eyes adjusted, he let his other senses guide him. On the wind, he heard hushed voices. The scent of frankincense and female wafted from a doorway up ahead. How he loved that combination. He imagined that was what Merope's hair must have smelled like when she lived in the world above.

Argyros motioned them into the courtyard, and then ran back the way they'd come, the cold too much for him. Thanatos suspected that betraying his father's enigmatic guest was too much for him as well. Death didn't blame him— Argyros had good cause to fear this man. Hypnos and Thanatos stood outside. Within, they heard the woman's strange tongue as the _kedeshah's_ preparations for the ceremony reached their culmination. She implored her gods to guide the rites between her and her consort, to restore fertility and warmth to the earth. A male voice answered in her own language, his accent perfected by study, his words echoing hers.

"That's the real reason, isn't it?" Hypnos nodded toward the doorway as the priestess grew quiet.

"Why we despise each other? No, it's more complicated than that."

"What Hecate's doing isn't all bad. If our ways ever die out, they might be the only ones left who honor them."

"I'd hardly called what the mortals do 'honoring' our ways. And Mother agrees with _me_, anyway."

"Hecate doesn't care what Mother thinks about her work. And she wouldn't care one way or another about _your_ opinions if you could just refrain from fucking the Lampades nymphs for—"

"Well, where's the fun in that, brother? Of course I leave them alone when they're intact, but beyond that I don't hold sacred anything she teaches them. Also, there are very few ways I can get under the white witch's skin," Thanatos said as they walked through the courtyard. "She herself is a sworn virgin, after all."

A gold-painted statue of a goddess with perfect waves of hair and the crescent moon crowning her head stood where Hestia's altar would have been if the _kedeshah_ were from Hellas. He gazed up at the flawless folds of linen carved to drape over the relief of her perfect marble bust. Throughout Hellas, this goddess was called Aphrodite. But in this aspect, and to the priestess who owned this house, her name was Astarte. Gasps and the rhythmic groaning of the floorboards could be heard from the bedroom upstairs. The ritual coition had begun.

"It doesn't mean that you have to turn the _only one_ who could have helped us capture him against us!" Hypnos whispered sharply. "If you weren't so busy with your amusements we wouldn't have been wandering the frozen wastes for—"

"Shh," Thanatos quieted him. "It's time."

Thanatos cast a glamour of invisibility over himself. It would have made no difference to the sight of a deathless one— only Hades' helm could do that— but his mortal quarry wouldn't see him until it was too late. Their preoccupation with the rite would only aid Hypnos and Thanatos; it was why they chose this night. The _hieros gamos_ in progress above them was a pantomime, a play-acting of the divine rite of the gods. Thanatos remembered long ago when he had scoffed at Hecate and her decision to teach the nymphs and mortal priestesses a rite in which she herself could not engage. The words she had shot back were painfully true, intended to wound him, and would have if he hadn't already long passed beyond the point of caring what his mother's strange little student thought about him.

He forgot about the white witch and focused on their current impediment. The ladder leading up to the bedroom above would squeak. Flying in would rustle wings and disturb the air. Their quarry could be gone through the ether before they even caught sight of him. Thanatos listened to the hard push against the floorboards just above their head, and smiled. He glanced back at Hypnos and softly tapped on a rung of the ladder, his finger moving in time with the rhythm of the rutting above them. His brother nodded in agreement. They placed one foot after another in time with the grinding of the boards, the squeak of the rungs masked.

When Thanatos reached the top of the ladder, he bit back an amused laugh at the scene before him and shook his head. The Canaanite priestess lay sprawled beneath her consort, her body covered from head to toe in gold dust. Her eyes were heavily lined with black kohl, the tips of her breasts and her lips stained red with ochre. A golden moon headdress, much like the statue in the courtyard, was precariously perched atop her head. It shook with each rock of her consort's hips into her painted thighs.

If her costumery for this farce was garish, her partner's was obscene. The man was likewise dusted in gold but his head was covered with the heavy gold mask of a bull decorated with carved ebony horns. Death imagined that he must look a bit like Asterion, the fearsome creature one of Minos' descendants put in the labyrinthine tunnels underneath Crete. Thanatos had never seen the beast, but had collected his share of mortal souls from the sacrifices made to it. For all the abomination the very existence of Asterion was, it didn't fairly compare to what he witnessed now. Thanatos ground his teeth at the sacred symbol of the Protogenoi drawn into the floor with gold dust and herbs. His grotesque quarry profaned it with every flex of his hips.

Hypnos climbed the last steps next to him and raised his eyebrows at the scene before him before glancing up at his brother. Thanatos tilted his head toward them and motioned Hypnos to join him. Both unwound the chain from around Thanatos' shoulder. They stepped carefully on the floorboards, but the mortals' wild mating was too frenzied now for any rhythm to be necessary. Death felt blood coursing through him in anticipation, as alive as he usually felt when he was with Eris. He wondered as they drew out the long chain if this was how Aidoneus felt when he silently stole upon and garroted the sleeping Tyrant with the Chains of Tartarus. No, he thought. This was different. Cronus had destroyed everything Thanatos had ever cared about— forced his mother and father into exile, ruined and enslaved his family. This pithy mortal that thought himself a god, his attention diverted by the wealth of sensations overtaking his body, was no threat to them.

It was nearly time; they were close. The woman's moans were contrived. Thanatos had had enough women to know that for certain. So many of them were so used to putting on a show that they'd forgotten how to come, or worse, had to ignore their pleasure under the guise of ladylike respectability, lying still as their husbands used them. He took particular delight in helping them remember, or teaching them, before he took them. What little he'd seen of Merope's olive skin flashed through his mind before he shook himself of his distraction and focused again. The priestess's body arched too dramatically. Thanatos wondered if her cries were for the benefit of the man pumping away on top of her or the gods she served, or the neighborhood for that matter. The series of grunts from under the metal mask became ragged and his hips lost their tempo. Hypnos and Thanatos quietly looped one length of chain under and one length around the bull-headed man, careful not to touch him just yet. Sleep took position on the other side of the pair and waited for Death's signal. He waited. He nodded.

With all their might, they pulled. The chains stretched taut, the brothers straining to secure him in its bonds. They lifted him, uncoupling him from the woman at his moment of climax. Her squeals of feigned ecstasy turned to silent confusion as he convulsed against the invisible chain above the _kedeshah's_ supine body.

"_NOW!_" Thanatos yelled. Linen burned off into flying embers and the binding potency of Tartarus surged through the iron chain. The brothers let go of the ends. Suspended in the air, the links rattled and whipped around the _kedeshah's _consort, ensnaring him. The Canaanite priestess lay on the floor, shielding herself. Her eyes grew wide as the Chains of Tartarus, Hypnos and Thanatos appeared before her.

She opened her mouth as far as she could, her blood-curdling scream echoing through the room and courtyard below. Hypnos swept his silvery hand through the air to guide the chain around the bull-headed consort. The man's feet lifted off the ground, kicking fruitlessly in the air as it wound around his legs. Thanatos mimicked his brother, then closed his bony fist. The chains responded, binding the consort's arms to his sides. Finally, the loose ends wrapped themselves around a wood beam above his head, suspending him from the rafters.

The _kedeshah_ scrambled on her palms and feet, backing up against the wall. A smear of gold was left in her wake; the six-pointed symbol she and her consort had laid in moments before was broken and distorted. When she couldn't retreat any further, she started a new round of piercing screams, the back of her head smacking the wall.

"Will you shut her up?!" Death yelled over his shoulder.

Sleep brushed his palm over the dripping poppy he kept in the folds of his himation. He walked to the priestess and lightly pushed on her forehead with two sticky fingers. She slumped against the wall and fell to one side, unconscious and unmoving.

"I said 'shut her up', not send her into an opium stupor."

"What did you expect me to do, Thanatos? Besides— now she won't remember anything."

"Is she still breathing? The last thing I need tonight is to come all the way back here and harvest her shade."

He walked over to the _kedeshah_ and lifted her wrist off the ground.

"If I have to come back to this godsforsaken place, so help me, I'm dragging you back here with me!"

"Quiet!" Hypnos pressed his thumb into her glittering flesh until he felt her pulse. "She's alive."

A loop of the chains smacked the ground behind them as the man struggled and writhed one last time, testing the Chains of Tartarus. Thanatos pulled his sickle from his belt, and walked to within an inch of the bucking golden bullhead. Looking at the dangling man, he smirked, then pushed him with the blunt metal curve until he swung forward and back. His struggles waned.

Thanatos chortled. "Those chains were crafted to bind Titans, you fool."

The bull mask slumped to his chest once he realized, humiliated, that any more struggles were in vain.

"Well," Hypnos smiled, "you almost made this look easy."

"I couldn't have done it without you, brother." Thanatos concentrated and appeared angelic once more, having heard quite enough screaming for one night. He raised his voice in melodic glee to speak to their prey. "Now— who have we here?"

He pulled off the heavy mask by one of the dark horns and threw it aside, the gold nose of the bull denting in as it hit the floor with a hollow clang and rolled away behind them. Thanatos raised the mortal's chin with the flat edge of his sickle. He was met with fear and fury and eyes as blue as the Aegean.

"Sisyphus, I presume?"


End file.
